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LITTLE     SUNBEAMS. 


IV. 
JESSIE'S    PARROT, 


I 


§8  %^  i^ui^or  0f  i^xu  Balnrat. 


I. 

LITTLE    SUNBEAMS. 

By  Joanna  H.  Mai-hews,  Author  of  the  "  Bessie  Books." 

I.  Belle  Powkks'  Locket.    16mo $1  00 

II.  Dora's  Motto.    16mo 1.00 

III.  Lily  Noruis'  Enemy 1.00 

IV.  Jessie's  Parrot 1.00 

V.  Mamie's  Watchword 1.00 

—4 

IL 
THE   FLOWERETS. 

A  series  of  Stories  on  the  Commandments.    6  vols.    In  a 

box $3.60 

"  It  is  not  easy  to  say  too  good  a  word  for  this  admirable  series. 
Interesting,  graphic,  impressive,  they  teach  with  great  distinctness  the 
cardinal  lessons  which  they  would  have  the  youthful  reader  learn."  — 
S.  S.  Times. 

« 

III. 

THE    BESSIE    BOOKS. 

6  vols.    In  a  box $7.50 

"  Bessie  is  a  very  charming  specimen  of  little  girlhood.  It  is  a  lovely 
story  of  home  and  nursery  life  among  a  family  of  bright,  merry  little 
children."  —  Presbyterian. 


ROBERT  CARTER  AND   BROTHERS, 

New  York, 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGB  ■ 

I.  The  New  Scholar 9  ' 

II.  An  Excursion 81  . 

III.  Jessie  and  her  Grandfather 52 

IV.  The  Parrot 69  ' 

V.  Grandmamma  Howard 90  i 

VI.  Jealousy 110  ! 

VII.  A  Misfortune 129  ' 

VIII.  "The  Spider  and  the  Fly" 148  ; 

IX.  A  Guilty  Conscience 168  ; 

X.  A  Game  of  Characters 189 

XL  Confession -         .  205  i 

X]I.  The  Fair 223  ^ 


JESSIE'S    PAKEOT. 


THE  NEW  SCHOLAR, 

ANNY  LEROY  is  going  away  from 
our   school,"   said  Carrie   Ransora 
one  morning  to  Belle  Powers  and 
two  or  three  more  of  her  young  schoomlates. 
"  Oh,  dear  !  I'm  sorry,"  said  Belle. 
"  So  am  I,"  said  Dora  Johnson.     "  Why  is 
she  going  ? " 

"  Has  she  finished  her  education,  and  is  she 
never  going  to  school  any  iliore  ? "  asked 
Mabel  Walton. 

"Why,   no,"    said   Belle;    "she's    nothing 


V 

lo  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

but  a  little  girl ;  and  you  don't  finish  your 
education  till  you're  quite  grown  up  and  have 
long  dresses." 

<•<■  Why  is  she  going  away  ? "  asked  Lily. 
"I  don't  want  her  to  go.     I  like  Fanny." 

"  So  do  I.  She's  real  nice,"  said  Carrie ; 
*'but  she  is  going,  for  all,  'cause  her  father 
and  mother  and  all  her  family  are  going  to 
Europe  and  she  is  going  with  them." 

"  I  wish  she  wouldn't,"  said  Belle ;  and 
one  and  another  echoed  their  sorrow  at  the 
loss  of  their  schoolmate. 

Fanny  had  always  been  well  liked  in  the 
school ;  but  now  that  they  were  about  to  lose 
her  the  little  girls  found  that  they  were  even 
more  fond  of  her  than  they  had  supposed,  and 
many  regrets  were  expressed  when,  a  moment 
later,  she  came  in  accompanied  by  Gracie 
Howard. 

Fanny  herself  was  very  melancholy  and 
low,  for  this  was  to  be  the  last  day  at  school, 
as  she  informed  the  other  children ;  the  jour- 
ney to  Europe  having  been  decided  upon  rather 


The  New  Scholar,  13 

like  Hattie  as  well  as  they  might  do  upon  a 
first  acquaintance ;  but  she  very  properly  and 
generously  resolved  not  to  tell  tales  and  preju- 
dice the  minds  of  the  other  children  against 
ihe  new  comer.  Better  to  give  Hattie  all  the 
chance  she  could  and  let  it  be  her  own  fault 
if  she  were  not  popular  with  her  classmates. 

I  cannot  say  that  Fanny  reasoned  this  out 
in  just  such  words  ;  but  the  kind  thought  was 
in  her  mind,  and  she  resolved  to  hold  her 
peace  and  say  nothing  unkind  about  her 
cousin.  Would  Hattie  have  done  as  much  for 
her  or  for  any  one  else  ?  You  shall  judge  for 
yourself  by  and  by. 

The  parting  with  Fanny  was  rather  a  sad 
one,  for  the  children  were  all  fond  of  her,  and 
she  took  it  so  very  hardly  herself,  declaring 
that  she  never  expected  to  see  any  one  of  them 
again.  For  Fanny,  though  a  very  good  and 
amiable  little  girl,  was  one  who  was  apt  to 
"borrow  trouble,"  as  the  saying  is;  that  is, 
she  was  always  worrying  herself  about  misfor- 
tunes which  would,  could,  or  might  happen  to 
herself  or  her  friends. 


14  yesste's  Parrot. 

Therefore  she  now  expressed  her  expectation 
of  never  seeing  any  of  her  young  friends 
again,  and  when  Lily  very  naturally  inquired 
if  the  family  meant  to  stay  "  for  ever  an'  ever 
an'  ever,"  said,  "  No,  but  people  were  very 
often  drowned  when  they  went  to  Europe  in  a 
steamer,  and  very  likely  she  would  be." 

Nor  was  she  to  be  persuaded  to  take  a  more 
cheerful  view  of  the  future,  even  when  Dora 
Johnson  suggested  that  many  more  people 
crossed  the  ocean  and  returned  in  safety  than 
were  lost  upon  it.  She  was  determined  to 
dwell  upon  the  possibilities,  and  even  proba 
bilities  of  her  being  shipwrecked,  and  took 
leave  of  her  schoolmates  with  a  view  to  such 
a  fate. 

"  Fanny  did  not  act  as  if  she  thought  we'd 
like  her  cousin  Hattie  very  much,  did  she  ?  " 
questioned  Nellie  Ransom  as  she  walked 
homeward  with  Gracie  Howard,  Dora  Johnson, 
and  Laura  Middleton. 

"No,  she  did  not,"  said  Laura.  "Fanny 
don't  tell  taleg  or   say  unkind  things   about 


The  New  Scholar.  15 

people,   but    it    was    quite    plain    she    does 
not  think  so  very  much  of  Hattie  Leroy." 

"  I  know  the  reason  why,"  said  Gracie. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  Laura. 

"  Fanny  said  something  very  hateful  about 
me,"  answered  Gracie,  "  and  Hattie  told  me 
of  it ;  and  just  for  that  Fanny  was  mad  at 
Hattie." 

"Well,  I  should  think  Fanny  might  be 
mad,"  said  Laura.  "  Hattie  had  no  right  to 
tell  you  if  Fanny  didn't  mean  her  to,  and 
I  don't  believe  she  did." 

"  No,"  said  Gracie,  "  I  don't  suppose  Fanny 
did  want  me  to  know  it ;  but  then  she  had  no 
business  to  say  it." 

"  Hattie  had  no  business  to  repeat  it,"  said 
Dora  indignantly ;  "  if  she  is  that  kind  of  a 
girl  I  don't  wonder  Fanny  don't  like  her, 
and  I  wish  she  was  not  coming  to  our 
school." 

<'  What  did  Fanny  say  ?  "  asked  Laura,  who 
had  her  full  share  of  curiosity. 

«'  She  said  —  she-er —  she-er  —  I'm  not  going 


1 6  yessze's  Parrot. 

to  tell  you  what  she  said,"  answered  Gracie, 
who  was  really  ashamed  to  confess  what  slight 
cause  for  offence  Fanny  had  given,  and  that  it 
was  her  own  wounded  self-love  which  made  it 
appear  so  "  hateful." 

But  although  Gracie  would  not  tell  her 
schoolmates,  I  shall  tell  you,  for  I  know  all 
about  it. 

The  mighty  trouble  was  just  this. 

Hattie  Leroy  had  but  lately  come  to  live  in 
the  city,  and  just  when  her  parents  were  look- 
ing around  for  a  good  school  to  send  her  to, 
Fanny's  papa  and  mamma  made  up  their 
minds  to  take  her  abroad.  This  left  her  place 
vacant  in  Miss  Ashton's  class,  and,  as  you 
have  heard,  it  was  at  once  secured  for  her 
little  cousin. 

Meanwhile  Gracie  and  Hattie,  who  had  met 
at  Fanny's  house,  had  struck  up  a  violent 
intimate  friendship  and  were  now  much 
together. 

As  may  be  supposed,  Hattie  was  very  curi- 
ous  respecting  her  future  teacher  and  class- 


The  JSIew  Scholar,  17 

mates,  and  asked  both  Fanny  and  Gracie  many 
questions  about  them. 

But,  although  the  accounts  given  by  the 
two  children  agreed  in  most  points,  yet,  in 
some  way,  the  story  told  by  Gracie  left  a  very 
different  impression  from  that  of  Fanny.  The 
latter  thought  her  teacher  and  classmates  very 
nearly,  if  not  quite,  perfect,  and  bestowed  her 
praise  freely  and  without  stint.  Well,  and  if  you 
had  heard  Grade's  report  you  might  have  said 
that  she  did  the  same  ;  but  whenever  Gracie 
said  one  good  word  for  another  she  said  a 
dozen  for  herself.  One  girl  was  a  very  bright 
scholar,  but  she  stood  second  to  Gracie ; 
another  was  always  punctual  and  steady,  but 
Gracie  had  still  a  higher  number  of  marks  for 
these  two  virtues  —  or  at  least  if  she  did  not 
have  them,  she  deserved  them,  and  it  was  the 
fault  of  some  one  else  that  they  had  not  fallen 
to  her  share.  Nellie  R-ansom  wrote  such  fine 
compositions ;  but  then,  they  were  by  no  means 
to  be  compared  to  Grade's  own,  —  oh,  dear,  no  ! 
So  it  was  with  each  and  every  one ;  whatever 
2 


1 8  yesste^s  Parrot. 

merit  any  child  in  the  class  possessed.  Grade's 
went  beyond  it. 

So  at  last  Hattie  quite  naturally  asked 
Fanny  if  Gracie  were  really  the  best  child,  the 
finest  scholar,  and  the  most  admired  and  praised 
of  all  her  classmates. 

"  Why,  no,"  answered  Fanny ;  "  Gracie  is  a 
very  good  scholar,  and  'most  always  knows  her 
lessons  perfectly  ;  but  Nellie  is  even  better  than 
she  is,  and  has  kept  the  head  of  the  spelling 
and  history  classes  ever  so  long.  And  she 
generally  writes  the  best  compositions ;  but 
Gracie  don't  think  so,  and  always  says  Miss 
Ashton  is  unjust  if  she  gives  Nellie  the  highest 
marks.  But  Gracie  is  very  smart,  and  can 
learn  quicker  than  any  of  the  rest  of  us ;  and 
she  'most  always  behaves  well  in  school  too." 

"  Better  than  any  one  else?  "   asked  Hattie. 

'•'-  No,  "  said  Fanny,  rather  indignantly  ; 
"  there's  lots  of  the  children  that  are  just  as 
good  as  she  is.  She's  not  the  best  one  in  the 
school  at  all.  She's  good  enough,  but  not  so 
wonderful." 


The  'New  Scholar,  19 

"  She  tliinks  she  is,"  said  Hattie. 

*' That's  nothing,"  answered  Fanny;  '"peo- 
ple's thinking  they  are  a  thing  don't  make  them 
that  thing,  you  know." 

"•  Then  you  think  Gracie  is  conceited  and 
thinks  a  great  deal  of  herself,  do  you  ?  "  asked 
Hattie. 

"  Why,  yes,"  answered  Fanny,  though  half 
reluctantly  ;  "  no  one  could  help  thinking  that, 
you  know." 

Fanny  expressed  herself  in  this  manner 
more  as  a  way  of  excusing  her  own  opinion  of 
Gracie  than  as  accusing  her  little  playmate. 

"  Who  do  you  think  is  tlie  best  child  in  all 
the  school  ?  "  asked  Hattie. 

"  Well,"  answered  Fanny,  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  "  I  b'lieve  Belle  Powers  is.  At 
least  I  think  it  is  the  best  in  her  to  be  as  good 
as  she  is,  for  she  has  to  try  pretty  hard  some- 
times." 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  inquisitive  Hattie  again. 

"  Because  she  has  no  mother,  and  she  has 
always  been  a  good  deal  spoiled  by  her  papa 


20  Jessie's  Parrot. 

and  her  old  nurse.  But  I  never  saw  any  child 
who  wanted  to  be  good  more  than  Belle,  and 
she  tries  very  much ;  and  we  are  all  very  fond 
of  her,  and  Miss  Ashton  excuses  her  things 
sometimes  because  she  is  sorry  for  her." 

"  Don't  that  make  you  mad  ?  "  said  Hattie. 

"  No,"  answered  Fanny  with  much  energy  ; 
"we'd  be  real  mean  if  we  were  mad  when 
Belle  has  no  mother.  No,  indeed ;  no  one 
could  bear  to  have  Belle  scolded ;  we  all  love 
her  too  much." 

Now  this  was  seemingly  a  most  innocent  con- 
versation ;  was  it  not  ?  and  one  could  hardly 
have  supposed  that  it  would  have  made  trouble 
for  poor  Fanny  as  it  did. 

Gracie  and  Fanny  lived  within  a  few  doors 
of  one  another,  the  latter  a  little  nearer  to 
Miss  Ashton's  house  than  the  former;  and 
Gracie  was  in  the  habit  of  stopping  for  Fanny 
on  her  way  to  school  that  they  might  walk 
there  together. 

But  one  morning  a  day  or  two  after  this, 
Fanny,  standing  by  the  window  and  watching 


The  New  Scholar,  21 

for  her  young  friend  as  usual,  saw  her  go  by 
with  her  maid  without  so  much  as  turning 
her  head  or  casting  her  eye  up  at  the  win- 
dow where  she  must  know  Fanny  awaited  her. 

"  It  is  the  queerest  thing  I  ever  knew,"  said 
Fanny  to  her  father  as  she  walked  along  by  his 
side  a  few  moments  later  ;  "  it  'most  seems  as 
if  Gracie  was  offended  with  me  to  do  so  ;  but 
then  she  can't  be,  for  I  have  not  done  a  thing 
to  her.  I  shall  ask  her  right  away,  as  soon  as 
I  am  at  school." 

But  Fanny  was  only  just  in  time  to  take  off 
her  hat  and  cloak  and  go  to  her  seat  before  the 
bell  rang,  and  so  had  no  opportunity  before 
school  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of  Grade's 
strange  behavior. 

There  was  no  need  of  words,  however,  to 
show  that  Gracie  was  indeed  offended  with  her, 
for  averted  looks  and  scornful  tossings  of  the 
head  showed  that  plainly  enough.  Poor  Fanny 
was  hurt  and  uncomfortable,  and  vainly  tried  to 
imagine  what  she  could  have  done  that  offended 
Gracie  so  much. 


22  Jessie's  Parrot, 

She  ran  to  her  as  soon  as  recess  gave  her 
liberty  to  speak. 

"  Why,  Grade  !  what  is  the  matter  ?  "  she 
asked.  "  Why  did  you  not  stop  for  me  this 
morning  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  did  not  choose  to,"  answered 
Gracie  shortly. 

"  Are  you  mad  with  me  ?  "  asked  Fanny, 
putting  a  very  unnecessary  question,  for  it  was 
quite  plain  to  all  beholders  that  this  was 
Gracie's  state  of  mind. 

"Yes,  I  am;  and  I  have  a  good  right  to  be 
too,"  answered  Gracie,  her  eyes  flashing  at 
Fanny. 

"What  have  I  done?"  asked  the  innocent 
Fanny. 

"  You  need  not  pretend  you  don't  know, 
Miss  Hateful,"  replied  Gracie,  "  nor  pretend 
you  haven't  a  guilty  conscience.  I've  found 
you  out !  I'll  never  be  friends  with  you 
again." 

"  You  ought  to  tell  Fanny  what  it  is,  and 
let  her  make  it  up,"  said  Belle. 


The  New  Scholar.  23 

"  She  can't  make  it  up.  I've  found  her  out 
before  it  was  too  late.  She  is  a  false,  treacher- 
ous friend,"  said  Gracie,  waxing  magnificent 
and  severe  in  her  reproaches,  as  she  imagined". 

Poor  Fanny,  a  tender-hearted,  sensitive 
little  thing,  was  overwhelmed  by  these  upbraid- 
ings,  which  she  was  not  conscious  of  deserving ; 
but  neither  her  entreaties  nor  those  of  the 
other  children  could  draw  more  than  this  from 
Gracie,  who  turned  away  from  them  with  an 
air  of  great  offence,  and  holding  her  head 
very  high  with  insulted  dignity. 

"  Augh  !  "  said  Lily  Norris,  who  generally 
took  up  the  cudgels  in  defence  of  any  one 
whom  she  considered  oppressed  or  injured,  and 
who  generally  contrived  to  be  quite  as  cutting 
and  severe  in  her  remarks  as  the  offender  had 
been ;  "  you  had  better  take  care,  Gracie ; 
some  day  that  nose  of  yours  won't  come  down 
again,  it  is  growing  so  used  to  sticking  itself 
up  at  people.  If  when  you're  grown  up 
people  call  you  '  stuck-up-nose  Miss  Howard,' 
you  won't   feel  very  complimented;   but  you 


24  yesste^s  Parrot, 

can  just  remember  it  is  the  consequence  of 
your  being  such  a  proudy  when  you  was 
young." 

Gracie  made  no  reply,  except  by  raising 
both  nose  and  head  higher  still,  which 
expressive  motion  Lily  answered  by  saying,  — 

"  Oh,  donH  I  feel  like  giving  you  a  good 
slap ! "  with  which  she  walked  away,  fearing 
perhaps  that  she  might  be  too  strongly 
tempted  to  put  her  desire  into  execution. 

Fanny  was  a  good  deal  distressed,  and  the 
other  children  all  felt  much  sympathy  for  her, 
for,  as  you  will  doubtless  do,  they  thought 
Grade's  behavior  not  only  unkind  but  also 
unjust. 

For,  although  such  scenes  as  this  were 
becoming  quite  too  frequent  in  consequence 
of  Grade's  ever  increasing  vanity  and  conceit, 
stie  generally  was  ready  enough  to  proclaim 
the  cause  of  offence ;  but  now  she  was  not 
only  "hateful,"  as  Lily  called  it,  but  "  mysteri- 
ous" also,  and  would  give  Fanny  no  opportu- 
nity of  explaining  the  supposed  grievance. 


The  New  Scholar.  25 

Fanny  went  home  both  unhappy  and  vexed, 
—  Gracie  still  carrying  matters  with  a  high 
hand  and  refusing  even  to  walk  on  the  same 
side  of  the  street  with  her  —  and  finding  hep 
cousin  there,  as  was  quite  natural,  she  told  her 
of  the  trouble  with  Gracie. 

Had  Fanny  not  been  too  much  disturbed  to 
pay  much  attention  to  Hattie's  manner,  she 
might  have  seen  that  she  looked  uncomfortable 
when  she  told  her  story,  fidgeting  and  color- 
ing and  having  so  little  to  say  that  Fanny 
thought  her  wanting  in  sympathy.  But  it  was 
not  until  the  next  day  that  she  discovered  that 
Hattie  was  really  the  cause  of  the  difficulty 
with  Gracie.  By  that  time  she  had  heard 
that  she  was  to  sail  for  Europe  in  a  few  days, 
and  this  made  her  more  unwilling  than  ever  to 
be  on  bad  terms  with  her  young  friend. 

Meeting  Gracie  in  the  street,  the  poor  little 
grieved  heart  overflowed,  and  rushing  up  to 
her,  Fanny  exclaimed,  "Oh,  Gracie !  don't 
be  cross  with  me  any  more,  for  I'm  going  to 
Europe,  and  I  expect  I'll  be  drowned  in  the 


26  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

(Steamer,  and  then  you'll  be  sorry  you  did  not 
make  up  with  me." 

This  affecting  prospect  somewhat  mollified 
Gracie's  vexation;  but  still  she  answered  in  a 
tone  of  strong  resentment, — 

"  Well,  then  ;  and  why  did  you  say  hateful 
things  about  me  to  Hattie  ?  " 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Fanny,  who  had  so  little  in- 
tention of  making  unkind  remarks  about 
Gracie  that  she  had  really  forgotten  her  con- 
versation with  Hattie.  "  I  didn't.  I  never 
said  a  thing  about  you." 

"  Hattie  said  you  did,"  answered  Gracie  ; 
*'  she  says  you  told  her  I  thought  myself  very 
wonderful,  but  I  was  not ;  and  that  'most  all 
the  girls  were  better  scholars  than  me." 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Fanny  indignantly. 

"  And  she  says,"  continued  Gracie,  "  that 
you  said  'cause  I  thought  myself  good  did  not 
make  me  good,  and  that  Nellie  wrote  better 
compositions  than  I  did.  And  she  says  "  — 
this  was  plainly  the  first  and  worst  count  in 
Gracie's  eyes  —  "she   says   you  said  no  one 


The  New  Scholar,  27 

could  help  knowing  I  was  conceited  and  stuck 
up." 

This  last  speech  suddenly  recalled  to  Fanny's 
mind  what  she  had  said,  and  she  was  dismayed  ; 
nor  could  she  see  how  she  was  to  explain  it  to 
Gracie. 

She  was  fond  of  Gracie,  who,  when  her  self- 
conceit  did  not  come  in  her  way,  was  really  a 
pleasant  and  lovable  child  ;  and,  oh !  how  she 
did  wish  she  had  never  allowed  Hattie  to  lead 
her  into  that  conversation  about  her  school- 
mantes. 

She  colored  violently  and  exclaimed,  — 

"  Well,  I  did  say  that,  but  I  did  not  say  it 
in  that  way,  Gracie.  I  don't  quite  know  how 
it  was,  but  it  did  not  seem  so  bad  as  that  when 
I  said  it.  And  Hattie  asked  me,  so  I  couldn't 
help  saying  what  I  thought ;  but  it  wasn't  of 
my  own  accord  and  —  and  —  well,  you  know, 
Gracie,  most  all  of  us  do  think  you  think 
a  good  deal  of  yourself — but  —  oh,  dear!  it 
was  too  mean  for  Hattie  to  go  and  tell  you ; 
and  somehow  I  suppose  she's  made  you  think 


28  Jessie's  Parrot, 

it  was  worse  tlian  it  was.  'Cause  I  didn't 
mean  to  saj  any  thing  hateful  about  you ;  but 
Hattie  asked  such  a  lot  of  questions,  and  I 
never  thought  she'd  go  and  tell  ;  and  I'm 
going  away,  and  I  expect  I'll  never  come  back, 
and,  oh,  dear,  it's  too  mean !  " 

All  this  Fanny  poured  forth  in  a  very  dis- 
tressed and  excited  manner,  finishing  by  a 
burst  of  tears. 

Yes,  it  was  indeed  "  too  mean,"  and  Gracie 
felt  that  Fanny  had  been  shabbily  treated. 
She  had  listened  to  Hattie' s  tell-tale  report 
with  a  half-ashamed  feeling,  knowing  that 
Fanny  could  never  have  thought  that  her 
words  would  be  repeated ;  and,  although  anger 
and  mortification  had  taken  a  strong  hold 
upon  her  heart,  she  could  not  help  seeing  that 
Fanny  had  more  cause  of  complaint  than 
she  had. 

So  she  put  her  arm  about  Fanny's  neck,  and, 
with  what  she  considered  ma2:rianimous  for- 
giveness,  told  her  not  to  cry  any  more  and  she 
would  "  stop  being  mad." 


The  Hew  Scholar,  29 

And  when  they  talked  the  matter  over  and 
Fanny  recalled  what  she  had  said,  both  of 
Gracie  and  of  the  other  children  in  the  class, 
it  could  not  but  be  seen  that  Hattie  had  ex- 
aggerated as  well  as  "  told  tales,"  so  making 
mischief  and  bringing  discord  between  the  two 
little  friends.  And  had  Fanny  been  revengeful, 
or  too  proud  to  overlook  Gracie' s  unkindness 
and  beg  her  to  tell  her  what  had  come  between 
them  the  trouble  might  have  been  lasting,  and 
they  have  parted  for  a  long  time  with  bitter- 
ness and  resentment  rankling  in  their  breasts. 

But  now  there  was  peace  between  them  once 
more,  though  Gracie  did  still  secretly  feel 
some  vexation  at  Fanny  for  even  allowing  that 
she  could  be  wrong,  and  took  great  credit  to 
herself  for  being  so  forgiving  and  generous. 

And  now  you  will  not  wonder  that  Fanny 
did  not  feel  disposed  to  think  Hattie  "  so  very 
nice,"  although  she,  far  more  generous  and 
charitable  than  her  cousin,  would  not  tell  tales 
and  prejudice  the  minds  of  her  future  school- 
mates jag,^inst  her, 


30  yesste's  Parrot. 

But  Gracie  hardly  thought  the  less  of 
Hattie  for  what  she  had  learned  of  her ;  for 
she  always  liked  any  one  who  admired  her, 
and  this  Hattie  professed  to  do  ;  perhaps  she 
really  did  so,  for,  as  I  have  said,  Gracie  was 
a  pleasant  child,  and  very  clever  in  many 
things. 


^--^.>30:/-^- 


II. 


AN  EXCURSION. 


LARGE  omnibus  stood  before  the  door 
of  Miss  Ashton's  house,  and  had  been 
waiting  there  some  minutes.  This 
was  on  a  street  where  a  line  of  omnibuses  ran, 
and  every  now  and  then  some  would-be  passen- 
ger made  for  the  door  of  this  one,  when  the 
driver  would  turn  and  say  something  which 
plainly  disappointed  him  of  his  ride,  at  least 
in  this  particular  stage. 

If  such  an  individual  chanced  to  glance  up 
at  the  windows  of  Miss  Ashton's  house,  he 
saw  there  a  row  of  little  faces  in  each  of  the 
parlor  windows ;  and  these  same  faces  brim 
mlng  over  with  smiles  and  dimples  at  the  sight 


32  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

of  his  discomfiture,  and  the  consciousness  that 
this  omnibus  had  been  chartered  for  their 
especial  pleasure  and  convenience,  and  that  no 
mere  passer-by  had  any  right  or  title  therein. 

Some  people  smiled  in  return  to  the  happy 
little  group,  and  nodded  good-naturedly,  as  if 
to  say, — 

"  Oh,  yes !  it  is  all  right,  and  we  are  glad 
you  are  going  to  enjoy  yourselves,  and  hope 
you  will  have  a  very  pleasant  time  ;  "  but  one 
or  two  looked  cross,  frowning  and  shaking  their 
heads  or  shoulders  in  a  displeased  manner, 
and  as  if  they  had  no  sympathy  with  any  sim- 
ple pleasure  or  frolic. 

Upon  each  and  all  of  these  did  the  little 
observers  pass  remarks,  according  to  what  they 
believed  to  be  their  deserts. 

"  Look  at  that  man,"  said  Belle  Powers, 
"  how  very  displeased  he  looks.  Just  as  cross 
as  any  thing,  because  the  driver  wouldn't  let 
him  go  in  our  stage." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  likes  children,"  said 
Bessie  Bradford. 


An  Excursion.  33 

"  N05"  said  lier  sister  Maggie,  '^  I  think  he 
cannot  be  one  of  the  happy  kind  the  Bible 
speaks  about,  that  have  their  '  quivers  full  of 
them,'  for  which  he  is  to  be  pitied,  and  we 
need  not  be  very  severe  with  him." 

"  But  can't  people  like  children  and  be  glad 
they  are  going  to  have  a  nice  time,  even  if  they 
don't  have  any  in  their  own  homes?"  asked 
Carrie  Ransom. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  Maggie,  always  ready 
to  find  excuses  for  others  ;  "  but  then  probably 
that  gentleman  never  had  nice  times  himself 
when  he  was  a  child,  and  so  he  does  not 
know  how  to  appreciate  them." 

Maggie's  long  words  and  elegant  sentences 
always  settled  any  doubtful  point,  and  the 
"  cross  gentleman,"  who  still  stood  upon  the 
sidewalk  waiting  for  the  next  passing  omnibus, 
was  now  regarded  with  eyes  of  sympathy  and 
pity,  which  were  quite  lost  upon  him  as  he 
scolded  and  grumbled  at  the  ''  fuss  that  was 
made  nowadays  about  children's  pleasures." 

"  Chartered  for  a  troop  of  youngsters,"  he 

3 


34  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

growled  forth  to  another  gentleman,  who  com- 
ing np  also  opened  the  door  of  the  omnibus, 
and  would  have  jumped  in. 

Upon  which  the  new-comer  drew  back, 
looked  up  smilingly  at  the  windows  of  the 
house,  nodded  and  waved  his  hand,  receiving 
in  return  blushes  and  smiles  for  himself,  with 
an  answering  nod  or  two  from  some  of  the 
least  shy  of  the  group. 

"  He's  glad,"  said  Lily  ;  "  he  is  a  nice  gentle- 
man, and  I  expect  he  has  lots  of  little  children 
who  love  him  dearly,  and  that  he  tries  to  give 
them  a  good  time." 

"  And  so  is  made  happy  himself,"  said 
Maggie.  "  There  comes  Patrick  with  the 
shawls  and  wraps." 

And  now  came  Miss  Ashton  and  a  couple  of 
lady  friends,  who  had  volunteered  to  go  with 
her  and  help  take  care  of  the  little  party, 
bound  for  an  excursion  and  ramble  in  the 
Central  Park ;  and  the  signal  being  given  for 
the  merry  group  to  take  their  places  in  the 
stage,  forth   they  all  fluttered,  like  so  many 


An  Excursion.  35 

birds ;  and  amid  much  laughing  and  chatter- 
ing stowed  ■'.hemselves  away  in  the  roomy  con- 
veyance. 

They  were  all  seated,  and  Patrick,  Mrs. 
Bradford's  man,  who  had  been  lent  for  the 
occasion,  was  mounting  to  his  seat  beside  the 
driver,  when  another  gentleman,  coming  up 
with  a  quick  step,  pulled  open  the  door  of  the 
omnibus,  and  popped  in.  He  was  plainly  short- 
sighted, and  did  not  see  how  matters  stood 
until  he  was  fairly  inside  and  looking  about 
for  a  seat. 

Perhaps,  indeed,  his  hearing  taught  him 
first,  for  he  might  almost  have  thought  himself 
in  a  nest  of  sparrows  with  all  that  chirping 
and  fluttering.  A  smothered  laugh  or  two 
also  broke  forth  as  he  entered,  and  he  speedily 
saw  that  he  had  no  right  to  a  place  there. 

"  Ah  !  private,  I  see.  Beg  your  pardon, 
ladies,"  he  said  good-naturedly,  and  jumped 
out  again,  turning  with  a  bow,  and  "  I  wish 
you  a  pleasant  time."  Then,  as  he  caught 
sight  of  a  roguish  face  and  a  pair  of  dancing 


36  Jessie^s  Pan'ot, 

eyes  watching  him  with  a  look  of  recognition, 
be  said, — 

"  Why,  Lily,  my  dear !  Glad  to  see  you. 
Bound  for  a  frolic?  I  hope  you  may  enjoy 
yourself;  and  your  schoolmates  as  well.  A 
merry  day  to  you,  birdies."  With  which  he 
banged  the  door  and  watched  them  off. 

"  Who's  that  gentleman,  Lily  ?  "  asked  more 
than  one  voice. 

''He  is  Kitty  Raymond's  father.  His  name 
IS  Mr.  Raymond,"  answered  Lily. 

"  He  is  a  nice,  pleasant  gentleman,  is  he 
not?"  asked  Bessie. 

"  Well,  yes,  he  is  very  pleasant,"  said  Lily, 
''  but  then  he  is  an  awful  liar." 

''  Oh  -  h  -  h  !  ah  !  ah  !  "  broke  from  one  and  an- 
other of  the  cliildren  at  Lily's  very  plain  speak- 
ing ;  and  Miss  Ashton  said  reprovingly,  — 

"  Lily,  my  child  I  what  a  very  improper  ex 
pression  for  you  to  use,  and  of  one  so  much 
older  than  yourself,  too." 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Lily,  ''it  is  true.  Miss 
Ashton.     I  know  he  tells  the  most  dreadfu 


An  Excursion.  37 

untrue  stories,  and  that  does  make  him  a  liar, 
I  know.  If  children  say  what  is  very  untrue, 
people  say  it  is  a  lie  ;  and  when  grown-ups 
say  what  is  not  true  to  children  I  don't  see 
why  they  are  not  liars  all  the  same.  And  Mr. 
Kaymond  don't  tell  little  stories  what  you 
would  call  jibs^  either,  but  real  big,  true  lies, 
what  Tom  calls  whoppers.  So,  though  he  is 
pleasant  and  good-natured,  I  don't  think  he  is 
so  very  nice  ;  and  I'm  glad  he  is  not  my  papa." 

Miss  Ashton  hardly  knew  what  to  say,  for  if 
Lily's  accusations  were  true,  —  and  the  child 
was  not  apt  to  accuse  any  one  wrongfully,  — 
her  reasoning  was  quite  just,  and  it  was  plainly 
to  be  seen  that  in  some  way  her  sense  of  right 
and  truth  had  been  grievously  offended.  But 
still  she  did  not  wish  to  have  her  speak  in  such 
an  improper  way,  and  she  was  about  to  say 
so  again,  when  Lily  broke  forth  once  more 
with, — 

"  Miss  Ashton,  I'll  tell  you,  and  you  can 
just  judge  for  yourself.  The  other  day  I  was 
spending  the   afternoon    with  Kitty,  and  her 


38  yesste's  Parrot. 

little  brother  wanted  to  go  down  stairs  with 
us,  and  his  papa  did  not  want  him  to  go  ;  so  he 
told  him  that  the  big  black  man  in  the  closet 
in  the  hall  would  catch  him  and  put  him  up  the 
chimney.  And  it  was  a  lie!  I  say  it  was  a 
real,  true  lie,"  persisted  Lily,  who  was  apt  to 
be  emphatic  in  her  choice  of  words,  "  for  Mr. 
Raymond  knew  there  was  no  black  man  there, 
and  he  just  made  it  up." 

"  Was  the  little  boy  frightened  ?  "  asked 
Belle. 

"  Yes,  as  frightened  as  any  thing,  and  he 
really  believes  there  is  a  black  man  in  that 
closet ;  and  Willie  Raymond,  who  is  six  years 
old,  will  not  go  past  that  closet  without  some 
big  person.  And  I  did  feel  not  very  brave 
myself  when  I  went  past  it,"  confessed  Lily, 
"  for  all  I  knew  there  was  no  black  man  there 
- — and  if  there  was,  he  wouldn't  hurt  me,  the 
poor,  old  fellow  —  and  knew  it  was  just  a  — 
well,  if  Miss  Ashton  says  so,  I'll  call  it  a  fih^ 
but  I  shall  think  it  was  a  lie." 

Miss   Ashton   and   the   other    ladies   could 


An  Excursion.  39 

hardly  help  smiling  at  Lily's  tone  ;  and  the 
former  felt  that  the  child  was  so  far  right  that 
she  could  scarcely  reprove  her  again  for  her 
indignant  attack  upon  this  too  common  form 
of  deceit. 

^'  And  Mr.  Raymond  went  and  winked  at  me, 
just  as  if  he  thought  I  thought  it  was  funny," 
pursued  Lily ;  "  but  I  thought  it  was  only  horrid, 
and  I  didn't  smile  a  bit,  but  looked  back  at  him 
very  solemn.  No,  I  don't  like  him,  and  I'm 
not  going  to." 

"  You  don't  like  him  because  you  can't  re- 
spect him,"  said  Bessie  with  solemn  gravity. 

"  No,  I  just  don't,"  answered  Lily  ;  "  and 
I'm  not  going  to  go  and  have  a  respect  for  a 
person  who  tells  —  who  says  what  is  not 
true,  not  if  they  are  as  big  and  as  old  as  a 
mountain." 

Lily's  resolution  was  received  with  general 
approval ;  but  now,  at  her  suggestion,  the  sub- 
ject was  changed.  There  was  enough  to  talk 
about  without  taking  any  unpleasant  thing; 
and  how  those  little  tongues  did  go  ! 


40  yessie^s  Parrot. 

It  was  a  mild,  lovely  day  in  the  early  spring, 
uncommonly  warm  for  the  season,  —  just  the 
day  for  an  excm^sion.  Modest  crocuses,  lovely 
hyacinths  and  gay  tulips  were  in  bloom ;  the 
willows  were  just  clothing  themselves  in  their 
first  tender  green,  and  every  stream  and  spring 
rippled  and  sparkled  and  sang  as  if  it  were 
rejoicing  in  its  new  life  and  liberty. 

The  park  was  fairly  alive  with  children,  who, 
like  our  little  party,  seemed  determined  to  enjoy 
this  bright,  spring  day  to  the  utmost ;  but  per- 
haps none  were  so  gleeful  and  merry  as  our 
young  friends. 

The  windows  of  the  omnibus  were  open,  and 
the  little  girls  had  all  scrambled  upon  their 
knees  that  they  might  the  better  see  what  was 
without ;  and  many  a  grave  countenance  was 
won  to  smiles  by  the  sight  of  the  bright,  joyous 
faces  as  they  rolled  past,  and  the  merry  peals 
of  laughter  which  every  now  and  then  broke 
forth  from  the  cumbrous  vehicle.  And  they 
scattered  not  only  smiles  and  bright  looks 
wherever  they  went,  but  other  good  things  also. 


An  Excursion.  41 

Mabel  Walton,  who  considered  it  almost  im- 
possible to  enjoy  oneself  without  a  quantity  of 
candies  and  sugar-plums  on  hand,  had  been 
furnished  by  her  over-indulgent  mother  with  a 
large  supply  of  these  delicacies  ;  nor  were  most 
of  the  others  without  their  share  ;  so  that  Miss 
Ashton  looked  with  some  dismay  upon  the 
treasures  which  were  displayed  by  one  and 
another,  fearing  that  her  little  flock  might  sur- 
feit themselves  with  too  many  sweets  before 
the  day  was  over. 

However,  her  mind  was  soon  relieved,  at 
least  in  a  measure.  For  Mabel  having  doled 
out  a  handful  of  sugar-plums  to  each  of  her 
companions,  Bessie  Bradford  called  out  as  the 
carriage  rolled  slowly  up  a  hilly  part  of  the 
road, — 

"  Oh !  see  that  little  girl ;  what  a  nice  face 
she  has.  But  she  looks  so  pale  and  sorry.  I 
wish  I  had  some  pennies  for  her ;  but  I  will 
give  her  some  of  my  sugar-plums.  Perhaps 
she  don't  have  many." 

Poor  child !  she  looked  as  if  she  had  not 


42  yesste's  Parrot. 

many  loaves  of  bread,  as  she  ran  by  the  side 
of  the  omnibus,  holding  up  her  thin  hand.  A 
pale,  sorrowful  little  face  it  was  that  looked  up 
into  those,  so  rosy  and  happy,  above  it ;  pinched, 
careworn,  and  old  above  its  years,  with  that 
look  so  often  seen  in  the  faces  of  the  children 
of  the  poor.  Yet,  in  spite  of  her  extreme 
poverty,  she  was  not  very  ragged  or  very 
dirty ;  and  as  little  Bessie  had  said,  she 
had  "a  nice  face,"  an  open,  straightforward 
look,  a  gentle  expression,  and  a  clear,  honest 
eye. 

As  she  saw  Bessie's  hand  outstretched,  her 
face  brightened,  and  as  the  little  girl  dropped 
two  or  three  sugar-plums,  she  stooped  hastily  to 
pick  them  up  ;  but  when  she  raised  her  head 
again,  the  old  weary  look  had  come  back,  deep- 
ened now  by  disappointment. 

Just  then  the  driver  whipped  up  his  horses 
and  the  omnibus  rolled  on  faster,  leaving  the 
child  looking  sadly  after  it,  and  making  no 
attempt  to  pick  up  the  sugar-plums  now  thrown 
out  freely  by  all  the  little  girls. 


An  Excursion.  43 

"  Wliy !  she  looks  as  if  she  didn't  like 
sugar-plums,"  said  Belle. 

"  Impossible  !  "  said  Maggie.  "  There  never 
could  be  a  person  so  wanting  in  sense  as  not 
to  like  sugar-plums." 

"  Maybe  that  man  who  lived  in  a  tub  did 
not,"  said  Lily.  "  Maggie,  I  was  very  much 
interested  in  that  man  when  you  wrote  to  me 
about  him,  and  I  meant  to  ask  you  a  little 
more  about  him,  but  I  did  not  think  he  could 
be  a  whe  man.     What  was  his  name  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Diogenes,"  said  Maggie ;  "  and  the 
reason  they  called  the  old  cross-patch  a  wise 
man  was  because  wise  men  were  very  scarce 
in  those  days.  They  only  had  seven  in  all 
that  country ;  but  when  you  are  as  far  as  I  am 
in  Parley's  History  you  will  learn  all  about 
them." 

"  I  wonder  what  did  make  that  little  girl 
look  so  sorry,"  said  Bessie,  unable  to  forget 
the  look  of  disappointment  so  plainly  visible 
on  the  child's  face. 

"  I  think,  darling,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  "  that 


44  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

she  expected  pennies  when  she  saw  you  were 
about  to  throw  something  out,  and  so  was  not 
satisfied  with  the  candies.  There  was  some- 
thing interesting  and  sweet  in  her  face." 

"  Here  are  some  more  poor  children,"  said 
Bessie  ;  "  let's  drop  some  sugar-plums  to  them 
and  see  if  they  care  about  them." 

There  could  be  no  doubt  as  to  the  approba- 
tion of  these  new  recipients  of  the  bounty  of 
our  little  friends.  At  first  it  w^as  difficult  to 
tell  whether  the  pleasure  was  most  enjoyed  by 
those  within  the  omnibus  who  scattered  with 
liberal  hand,  or  by  the  outsiders  who  gathered 
the  harvest;  but  as  the  enthusiasm  of  these 
last  drew  new  claimants,  and  all  waxed  more 
and  more  clamorous,  it  soon  became  an  annoy- 
ance, and  Miss  Ashton  was  obliged  to  put  a 
stop  to  the  shower,  which  had  already  received 
a  check,  as  some  of  the  younger  children  were 
becoming  frightened. 

But  Patrick  and  the  driver  were  forced  to 
threaten  the  obstreperous  crowd,  and  even  to 
call  for  the  aid  of  a  policeman  before  they 


An  Excursio7i»  45 

could  be  scattered,  so  that  this  diversion  did 
not  end  so  agreeably. 

There  was  one  thing  gained,  however,  in 
Miss  Ashton's  opinion  ;  and  this  was  that  the 
greater  part  of  the  sugar-plums  had  been  dis- 
posed of,  without  hurt  to  her  young  charge. 

Not  that  she  objected  to  sugar-plums  alto- 
gether. Do  not  think,  my  little  readers,  that 
she  was,  as  Maggie  would  have  said,  so  "  want- 
ing in  sense,"  as  that ;  but  she  had  been  rather 
appalled  by  the  sight  of  the  numerous  tempt- 
ing looking  parcels  that  were  produced,  to  say 
nothing  of  Mabel's  over-abundant  supply. 

Our  gay  party  made  the  round  of  the  park, 
stopping  for  a  while  at  any  place  of  interest, 
and  now  and  then  alighting  if  they  were 
so  inclined.  They  hung  for  some  time 
about  the  paddock  where  the  deer  are  kept, 
putting  their  little  hands  through  the  palings 
and  trying  to  tempt  the  pretty,  gentle  creatures 
to  come  nearer.  But  the  deer  were  not  to  be 
persuaded,  and  although  they  watched  the 
children  with  their  mild,  soft  eyes  in  a  very 


46  Jessie's  Parrot. 

amiable  manner,  they  held  aloof  and  would 
not  condescend  to  a  closer  acquaintance. 

The  swans  were  less  timid,  and,  as  the  chil- 
dren flocked  down  to  the  border  of  the  lake 
with  their  hands  full  of  crackers  and  bread, 
came  swimming  up,  arching  their  graceful 
necks,  and  looking  eagerly  for  the  bits  with 
which  they  were  speedily  treated.  It  was 
enchanting  to  see  them  so  friendly,  and  to 
have  them  feed  from  one's  very  hand. 

The  old  gray  arsenal,  with  its  collection  of 
wild  animals,  was  not  to  be  visited  until  after 
they  had  taken  their  lunch.  As  they  passed 
the  Casino  on  their  way  up  through  the  park, 
Patrick  had  been  left  there  to  make  all  ready 
for  them;  and  now  they  drove  back  and 
alighted.  Pleasant  and  mild  though  the  day 
was,  the  ground  was  still  too  cold  and  tlw  air 
too  fresh  to  permit  of  lunching  out  of  doors ; 
and,  although  the  children  entreated  that  they 
might  be  permitted  to  do  so.  Miss  Ashton  was 
too  wise  to  yield. 

The  lunch  was  not  quite  ready  when  they 


An  Excursion,  47 

reached  the  Casino,  and  the  children  were 
permitted  to  wander  around  and  amuse  them- 
selves as  they  pleased  for  a  few  moments,  pro- 
vided they  did  not  lose  sight  of  the  house,  or 
go  beyond  call. 

Bessie,  Lily,  and  Belle  had  strolled  a  short 
distance  away  together,  and  had  disappeared 
from  the  view  of  Maggie,  Nellie,  and  Dora,  wlio 
stood  at  the  head  of  a  short  flight  of  stone 
steps  leading  up  to  the  Casino.  They  had  but 
gone  around  the  other  side  of  the  hedge,  how- 
ever, and  could  not  be  far  off. 

Suddenly  Lily  and  Belle  came  flying  back 
with  frightened  faces,  and  rushed  breathless 
and  panting  to  where  the  other  children  stood. 
Then  Belle  turned,  and  exclaimed,  — 
"  Where's  Bessie  ?      Didn't  Bessie  come  ?  " 
No  Bessie  was  to  be  seen,  certainly ;  and 
Maggie,  noticing  the  startled  faces  of  the  other 
children,  took  alarm  at  once  for  her  little  sla- 
ter, and  started  forward,  crying, — 

"  Where  is  she  ?  What  has  happened  ? 
Where's  my  Bessie  ? " 


48  Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

Before  Belle  or  Lily  could  speak,  Hattie 
darted  from  behind  the  hedge,  laughing  and 
mischievous ;  and,  pointing  her  finger  at  the 
crimson  faces  of  the  two  little  ones,  cried 
triumphantly,  — 

"  Oh  !  didn't  I  take  you  in  ?  Didn't  I  give 
you  a  fright,  though  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  Where's  Bessie  ?  "  said  Mag- 
gie again. 

Hattie  sat  down  upon  the  lower  step,  and 
doubling  herself  over  and  rocking  back  and 
forth,  said  between  paroxysms  of  laughter,  — 

''  Oh,  dear  !  Bessie  is  round  there  talking  to 
the  old  fellow.  She's  all  right.  Didn't  I  play 
you  two  geese  a  nice  trick,  though  ?  How  you 
did  run !  I  didn't  think  you  could  be  so  taken 
in.     Oh,  what  fun!" 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  Lily,  indignation  taking 
the  place  of  her  alarm,  "  were  you  tricking 
us  ?  Didn't  he  try  to  take  your  hair  ?  Hattie, 
Hattie  !  you  mean,  mean  girl !  And  you  told 
us  a  real  wicked  story,  too.  How  dare  you  do 
it  ?  "     And  Lily  stamped  her  foot  at  Hattie,  in 


An  Excursion.  49 

a  real  passion  at  the  trick  which  had  been 
played  upon  her. 

The  effect  was  different  upon  Belle.  She 
was  a  sensitive  little  thing,  easily  overcome 
by  any  undue  excitement ;  and,  throwing  her- 
self upon  Maggie,  she  burst  into  a  violent  fit 
of  sobbing  and  crying. 

Miss  Ashton  and  her  friends  heard  and  came 
to  inquire  into  the  trouble ;  and  Hattie  was 
now  rather  frightened  herself  as  she  saw  the 
effect  of  her  foolish  deceit. 

Lily  indignantly  told  the  story,  which 
amounted  to  this.  It  was  a  well-known  fact, 
and  had  unfortunately  come  to  the  ears  of  our 
little  girls,  that  some  man  had  lately  attacked 
several  children,  and  suddenly  severed  the  hair 
from  their  heads,  making  off  as  fast  as  possi- 
ble after  he  had  done  so.  He  did  this  for  the 
sake  of  the  hair,  which  he  probably  sold ;  but 
he  was,  of  course,  a  bad  man  and  a  thief,  and 
the  children  all  felt  much  dread  of  him. 

So  when  Hattie  had  come  flying  up  to  Bessie, 
Belle,  and  Lily,  without  any  hat,  and  seem- 
4 


50  yessie's  Parrot, 

ingly  in  a  state  of  the  wildest  excitement,  and 
had  told  them,  with  every  appearance  of  truth 
and  of  being  herself  excessively  frightened, 
that "  that  old  man  there''  had  snatched  off 
her  hat  and  tried  to  cut  her  hair,  they  had 
readily  believed  her  —  as  an  old  man  was 
really  there  —  and  had  turned  about  and  run 
away  in  great  alarm.  They  had  been  terrified 
half  out  of  their  senses ;  and  now  here  was 
Hattie  confessing  —  yes,  glorying,  till  Miss 
Ashton  came  —  that  she  had  "  tricked  "  them, 
that  she  was  "  only  in  fun,"  it  was  all  ''  a 
joke." 

But  her  triumph  was  speedily  brought  to  an 
end,  when  Miss  Ashton  saw  Belle's  state,  and 
heard  how  it  had  been  brought  about.  She 
sternly  reprimanded  Hattie,  and  bade  her  go 
into  the  house,  and  remain  there. 

But  where  was  Bessie  ? 

The  other  children  declared  that  "  an  old 
man  was  really  there  ;"  and,  in  spite  of  Hattie's 
confession  that  she  had  only  been  joking, 
Maggie's  mind  was  filled   with  visions  of  her 


An  Excursion,  51 

little  sister's  sunny  curls  in  the  hands  of  a 
ruffian ;  and  away  she  flew  in  search  of  her, 
quite  regardless  of  any  supposed  risk  to  her 
own  wealth  of  dark,  waving  ringlets. 


III. 


JESSIE  AND  HER  GRANDFATHER. 


HERE  was  Bessie? 

When  Lily  and  Belle  turned  to  run 
from  the  figure  which  Hattie  pointed 
out  as  that  of  the  man  who  attacked  her,  she 
started  with  them,  quite  as  much  alarmed  as 
the  other  two ;  and,  if  they  thought  about  it 
at  all,  they  imagined  she  was  close  behind  them. 
But  she  had  gone  only  a  few  steps  when  she 
heard  a  voice,  a  weak  voice,  calling  after  her- 
self and  her  companions,  and  saying,  — 

"  Don't  be  afraid,  little  girls  ;  don't  run  away, 
little  ladies.  Couldn't  ye  stop  a  minute  to 
help  an  old  man  ?  " 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         53 

Something  in  the  tones  touched  the  tender 
little  lieart  of  Bessie  ;  and  she  checked  her 
steps,  ready  to  start  again,  however,  on  the 
shortest  notice,  and  looked  back  at  the  old 
man. 

A  very  old  man  he  seemed,  and  a  very 
feeble  old  man,  scarcely  able,  if  he  had  the 
will,  to  run  after  active  little  girls,  or  to  do 
them  any  harm.  His  hair  was  very  white, 
and  his  face  pinclied  and  thin  ;  but  he  looked 
kind  and  gentle,  as  Bessie  saw,  even  from  the 
distance  at  which  she  stood ;  and  her  fears 
died  away  as  she  looked  at  him. 

The  old  man  sat  upon  a  bank  ;  and  Bessie 
stood  hesitating  and  watching  him,  trying  to 
make  up  her  mind  to  go  and  ask  if  he  was  in 
trouble.  She  saw  that  he  had  dropped  his 
stick,  which  had  rolled  away,  and  lay  on  the 
ground  just  beyond  his  reach. 

"  Would  you  do  an  old  man  a  kindness,  and 
give  him  his  stick,  little  Miss?"  he  called  to 
her,  pointing  at  the  same  time  to  the  cane. 
'■'-  Why  did  ye  all  run  that  way  ?     I  t-ouldn't 


54  yessie's  Parrot. 

hurt  a  hair  of  your  heads,  more  than  I  would 
of  my  own  Jessie's." 

This  reference  to  the  ^'  hair  on  their  heads" 
was  rather  unfortunate,  for  it  startled  Bessie 
again,  and  brought  back  the  cause  for  alarm. 
Was  the  old  man  really  in  trouble,  and  unable 
to  reach  his  stick  ?  she  thought,  or  was  this 
only  a  trap  to  catch  her,  and  deprive  her  of 
her  curls? 

So  she  stood  still,  hesitating ;  and  the  old 
man,  as  if  in  despair  of  receiving  any  help  from 
her,  tried  to  raise  himself  a  little,  and  stretched 
out  his  trembling  hand  towards  the  stick.  But 
it  was  useless;  it  lay  too  far;  he  could  not 
rise  without  its  aid,  and  he  sank  back  again, 
looking  more  helpless  and  feeble  than  before. 
This  was  too  much  for  Bessie.  She  could  not 
bear  to  see  suffering  and  not  try  to  relieve  it  ; 
and  it  seemed  to  her  that  it  would  be  cruel  and 
wicked  not  to  lend  a  helping  hand  to  this  poor 
old  creature. 
*  "  Please,  dear  Father  in  heaven,  not  to  let 
him  \\mK  mCj"  ^Ije  whispered  softly  to  herself; 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         55 

and  then  walked  slowly  towards  the  old  man, 
her  little  heart  beating  painfully,  it  must  be 
confessed,  in  spite  of  her  petition,  and  the 
trust  that  it  would  be  heard. 

Keeping  at  as  great  a  distance  as  it  would 
allow,  she  stooped  for  the  stick,  and  held  it  out 
at  arm's  length  to  the  owner. 

"  Now  may  He  that  blesses  the  cup  of  cold 
water  given  in  His  name  reward  you,"  said  the 
old  man,  as  he  took  it  from  the  timid  little 
hand  ;  *'  but  why  are  you  frightened  at  me, 
dear,  and  why  did  the  otiier  little  ones  run  as 
if  they  were  scared  half  out  of  their  lives  ? 
When  you  passed  all  in  the  big  stage,  laughing 
and  so  gay,  it  put  a  warmth  into  my  heart 
that  hasn't  been  there  for  many  a  day,  and  I 
b'lieve  it  was  your  own  loving,  little  face  that 
smiled  back  at  me  as  I  waved  my  hat  to 
you  for  a  blessing  on  your  joy.  Wliy,  I 
wouldn't  hurt  a  living  thing ;  least  of  all,  little 
girls  that  always  mind  me  of  my  Jessie. 
Though  it's  different  enough  that  you  are  from 
her,  my  poor  lamb,"  he  added  in  a  loT^er  tone, 


56  Jessie's  Parrot. 

which  Bessie  could  not  have  heard  had  she  not 
DOW  drawn  nearer  to  him. 

For  with  the  first  words  of  the  old  man's 
speech,  all  fear  had  vanished  from  her  mind. 
He  had  called  down  a  blessing  on  her  in  a 
name  which  she  knew  and  loved,  and  she 
could  not  be  afraid  of  him  longer.  Besides, 
now  that  she  looked  at  him  more  closely  and 
with  unprejudiced  ejes,  she  recognized  him, 
and  remembered  how,  as  he  said,  when  the 
stage  had  passed  him  with  its  merry  load,  he 
had  taken  off  his  hat  and  feebly  cheered  and 
waved  to  them  as  they  went  by. 

"  Don't  you  try  to  cut  off  little  girls'  hair  ?  " 
she  could  not  help  asking,  in  spite  of  her 
new  confidence. 

"  I  ?  "  answered  the  old  man  surprised ;  "  and 
why  would  1  do  that  ?  Ah  !  I  see.  Did  you 
take  me  for  that  fellow  ?  My  little  lady,  they 
have  him  fast  in  jail,  as  he  deserves  \  but  how  did 
you  ever  think  I  would  do  a  thing  like  that  ?  " 

"  A  little  girl  said  you  tried  to  cut  hers," 
answered  the  child. 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather.         57 

"  Then  that  little  girl  slandered  an  old  man 
who  had  never  harmed  her,"  he  said  gravely. 
"  I  understand  ;  she's  frightened  you  for  her 
own  fun,  or  whatever  it  may  be.  Well,  I'm 
up  now,"  —  he  had  slowly  and  painfully  raised 
himself  by  the  help  of  his  cane,  —  "and  I'd 
better  be  moving  away,  or  the  sight  of  me 
after  that  may  spoil  your  pleasure.  It  was  liard 
in  her  to  turn  you  against  one  who  would  never 
have  harmed  you ;  but  you're  a  sensible  little 
lady,  and  a  kind,  and  you'll  never  be  the  worse 
for  doing  a  good  turn  to  an  old  man." 

"  Don't  go  away,"  said  Bessie,  "  the  other 
children  won't  be  afraid  of  you  when  I  tell 
them  .Hattie  —  was  —  was  —  mistaken."  Bes- 
sie feared  that  Hattie's  tale  was  more  than  a 
mistake,  but  she  would  not  accuse  her  until 
she  was  sure.  "  They  won't  want  you  to  go 
away,  poor,  lame  man." 

"  Jessie  stays  so  long,"  he  answered,  look- 
ing about  him  helplessly.  "  She  sat  me  here 
to  rest  a  while,  and  I  think  she  can't  know 
how  long  she's  been  gone." 


58  yessze's  Pa7'rot. 

Before  Bessie  could  speak  again,  around  the 
hedge  came  Maggie,  who  stopped  short  in 
amazement  at  seeing  her  sister  standing  talk- 
ing sociably  to  the  dreaded  old  man.  And 
with  her  curls  all  safe  ! 

Maggie  could  hardly  believe  her  own  eyes. 
She  went  forward  more  slowly,  till  Bessie 
called  to  her, — 

"  0  Maggie,  dear !  this  old  man  wouldn't 
hurt  us,  or  cut  our  hair  for  anj^  thing.  He 
likes  little  girls,  and  it  made  him  feel  badly 
because  we  ran  away  from  him,  and  he  is  going 
away  now  'cause  he  thinks  we  don't  like  him. 
Come  and  tell  him  not  to." 

Timid  Maggie,  feeling  very  doubtful,  but 
determined  to  share  her  sister's  risk,  whatever 
that  might  be  —  she  had  almost  forgotten  that 
Hattie  had  confessed  she  only  wanted  to  trick 
them  all  —  drew  still  nearer,  and  taking 
Bessie's  hand,  gazed  up  at  the  old  man  with 
eyes  in  which  pity  and  sympathy  began  to 
struggle  with  lier  former  fear.  He  looked  so 
poor  and  feeble  and  helpless,  so  little  like 
doing  liarm  to  any  one. 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         59 

And  now  came  Dora  and  Grade,  who  had 
followed  Maggie  in  search  of  Bessie  ;  and  as 
the  little  group  gathered  about  the  old  man, 
Bessie  said,  — 

"  Where  is  your  Jessie  ?  Can  we  call  her  to 
you  ? " 

"  I  can't  tell,  little  Miss,"  he  answered. 
"  I've  been  sitting  here  more  tlian  an  hour,  I 
take  it.  Jessie  was  so  eager  about  her  parrot 
that  she  has  maybe  forgotten  how  long  she's 
been  away.     Ah  !  there  she  comes  now." 

As  he  spoke,  a  child  came  running  towards 
them,  but  seeing  tlie  group  about  her  grand- 
father, paused  in  amazement  at  a  short  distance. 

It  was  the  very  same  little  girl  to  whom 
they  had  thrown  sugar-plums  but  ai;i  hour 
since,  and  who  had  looked  so  disappointed. 
The  children  recognized  her  immediately. 

"  Why !  that's  the  little  girl  who  was  not 
pleased  with  our  sugar-plums,"  said  Bessie. 
"  Is  that  youi   Jessie  ?  " 

The  old  man  beckoned  to  her,  and  she  came 
forward. 


6o  Jessicas  Parrot. 

''  Tins  is  my  Jessie,  Miss,"  he  answered, 
"  and  a  good  girl  she  is  too.  I  don't  know 
what  her  old  grandfather  wonld  do  without 
her.  She's  given  up  the  dearest  thing  she  had 
for  me,  bless  her  !  " 

Jessie  was  now  standing  beside  her  grand- 
father, blushing  and  hanging  her  head  at  the 
notice  thus  drawn  upon  her. 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  asked  Dora. 

"  Her  parrot.  Miss.  A  splendid  parrot  that 
her  father,  who's  now  dead  and  gone,  brought 
her  from  beyond  the  seas.  You'd  think  he 
was  a  human  creature  'most,  to  hear  him  talk, 
and  she  loved  him  next  to  her  old  grandfather  , 
but  she  parted  with  him  for  my  sake." 

"  Didn't  you  like  him  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Yes,  indeed.  Miss.  I  was  'most  as  fond  of 
the  bird  as  she  was  herself ;  but  it  wasn't  to  be 
helped.  You  see  I  was  sick  so  long,  and  the 
doctor  bid  me  take  ^  medicine  that  cost  a 
deal  of  money,  to  drive  the  pain  out  of  my 
bones ;  and  how  were  we  to  get  it  when  we'd 
not  enough  to  buy  bread  from  day  to  day,  or 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         6i 

to  pay  the  rent  that  was  due  ?     So  she  sold  hei' 
bird,  for  I  can't  do  a  hand's  turn  of  work  just 

yet." 

"  That  was  good  of  her,"  said  Gracie  ;  "  did 
she  get  all  the  money  she  wanted  for  him  ? " 

"  ^tore  than  we  expected,  Miss,  for  the  man 
that  keeps  the  house  here,"  pointing  to  the 
Casino,  "  gave  her  ten  dollars  for  him.  And 
he  lets  her  see  him  every  day,  and  says  when 
the  summer  is  over  she  may  have  him  back 
for  eight  dollars  if  she  can  raise  it.  For  Poll 
draws  people  to  the  refreshment  place,  you 
see,  with  his  funny  ways,  and  his  wonderful 
talk,  and  the  keeper  thinks  he'll  get  two  dol- 
lars worth  out  of  him  before  the  summer  is 
over.  Bat,  Jessie  '11  never  raise  all  that 
money,  though  I  have  put  by  my  pride,  and  let 
her  ask  charity  here  of  the  folks  in  the  Park." 

"  And  I  don't  feel  that  I  ought  to  take  it  for 
that,  either,"  said  Jessie,  as  soon  as  the  talka- 
tive old  man  paused  for  breath,  and  let  her  have 
a  chance  to  speak,  "  'cause  grandfather  needs  so 
many  things,  and  the  rent  will  be  falling  due 


62  Jessie's  Parrot. 

before  long  again,  so  I  must  save  up  for  straws 
and  ribbon." 

"  For  what  ? "  asked  Bessie,  while  at  the 
same  moment  Dora  said,  — 

''  Why  don't  you  find  some  work  and  earn 
money  that  way  ?  " 

"  For  straws  and  ribbon,  Miss,"  said  Jessie, 
answering  Bessie's  question  first ;  then  turning 
to  Dora,  she  added,  — 

*'  I  would  work.  Miss,  and  I  do,  when  I  have 
the  things.  I  make  little  baskets  and  catch- 
alls, and  allumette  holders  of  ribbon  and  straw 
and  beads,  and  I  sell  them  wherever  I  can  ; 
but  the  stock  was  all  gone  long  ago,  and  I've 
no  more  to  begin  on." 

"  But,"  said  Dora,  ''  if  people  give  you 
money,  why  don't  you  take  that  to  buy  your 
materials  ?  " 

Jessie  shook  her  head  sadly. 

''  It  has  taken  every  cent  that's  been  given 
to  me  to  buy  just  bread  enough  for  me  and 
grandfather  to  eat.  Miss,"  she  said ;  "  there 
was  nothing  to  spare  for  any  thing  else,  and  any 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather.         6'}^ 

way  it  is  an  uncertain  thing,  the  selling  of  the 
baskets,  till  the  weather  is  pleasant  and  warm, 
and  people  like  to  stop.  Now,  you  see,  is  the 
time  for  me  to  be  making  them  ready ;  but 
tliere's  no  use  in  thinking  about  it,  and  as  for 
Poll,"  — 

Jessie's  sigh  and  filling  eyes  told  of  the 
despair  with  which  she  thought  of  the  recovery 
of  her  pet. 

"  I  have  some  money  in  my  charity-box  at 
home,"  said  Maggie  eagerly ;  "  I'll  give  you 
some  to  buy  straws  and  ribbon.  I  have  no 
money  with  me,  but  Miss  Asliton  will  lend  me 
some  for  such  a  good  purpose,  I  know,  and  I'll 
pay  her  as  soon  as  we  go  home.  I'll  run  and 
ask  her." 

But  there  was  no  need,  for  there  was 
Miss  Ashton  come  in  search  of  her  stray  lambs, 
and  in  two  minutes  she  had  heard  the  story. 

Heard  it,  but  scarcely  understood  it,  for  that 
was  difficult  with  one  and  another  putting  in  a 
word,  patching  it  out  in  various  bits  ;  to  say 
nothing    of    the   circumstance  that  our  little 


64  yessie's  Parrot. 

girls  themselves  scarcely  understood  what  they 
were  talking  about. 

Jessie  and  her  grandfather  —  who  had  noth- 
ing to  say  now  that  the  lady  had  come,  and  who 
stood  close  to  one  another,  the  old  man  holding 
his  hat  in  his  hand  and  leaning  on  his  stick  — 
were  somewhat  confused  themselves  by  the  chat- 
ter and  flutter  of  the  eager  little  talkers  ;  and 
when  Miss  Ashton  turned  to  the  latter  and 
began  to  inquire  into  his  story,  his  usual  flow 
of  words  seemed  to  have  failed  him. 

Miss  Ashton  spoke  to  Jessie. 

"  G-randfather  was  just  telling  the  little 
ladies  about  my  Polly,  ma'am,"  she  said 
7nodestly.  "  If  they'd  like  to  see  him  he's  in 
the  house  there.  And  if  you'd  like  to  have 
him  show  off  he'll  talk  better  for  me  than  for 
any  one  else,  and  I'll  go  and  coax  him." 

"  Oh  !  can  we  go  and  see  him  ? "  said  Bessie  ; 
and  Jessie  once  more  sapng,  yes,  and  that  she 
would  go  with  them,  the  little  girls  ran  off, 
while  Miss  Ashton  remained  to  hear  the  old 
man's  story. 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         65 

It  was  a  sad,  but  by  no  means  an  uncommon 
one.  Jessie's  mother  had  died  when  she  was 
a  baby.  Her  father,  who  was  mate  on  a  sail- 
ing-vessel, had  been  drowned  at  sea  about  twD 
years  ago.  Until  his  death,  his  wages, 
together  with  what  the  old  man  made  at  stone- 
cutting,  had  supported  them  all  in  comfort. 
And  even  after  that,  the  grandfather  and  the 
child  had  continued  to  keep  along  on  what  the 
former  earned.  Jessie,  who  was  twelve  years 
old,  had  been  to  school  pretty  steadily  till  a 
year  ago,  could  "  read  and  write  and  do  up 
sums,"  and  had  also  learned  to  sew. 

But  about  that  time  the  grandfather  had 
taken  a  heavy  cold,  from  being  thoroughly  wet 
with  rain  while  at  his  work  ;  and,  neglecting  to 
change  his  clothes,  it  had  settled  in  all  his 
joints,  and  a  long  and  painful  rheumatic  illness 
followed.  All  the  last  summer  he  had  lain 
bound  hand  and  foot,  the  pretty  trifles  which 
Jessie  had  learned  to  make  the  sole,  support 
*  of  the  two.  But  with  the  winter  the  sale  of  her 
little  wares  had  fallen  off,  poverty  and  suffering 
6 


66  yessie's  Parrot. 

had  increased  upon  them,  and  they  had  gone 
from  had  to  worse,  till,  as  he  had  told  the  little 
girls,  Jessie  had  been  forced  to  sell  her  beloved 
parrot  to  keep  a  roof  above  their  heads,  and 
to  buy  the  medicine  so  much  needed  for  hei 
grandfather.  They  had  some  help  from  the 
church  at  which  they  attended,  but  that  was 
little.  And  now  tliat  it  was  warmer  weather, 
and  Jessie  could  begin  to  sell  her  wares,  she 
had  no  money  to  buy  materials,  and  he  had 
consented  that  she  should  ask  charity  of 
passers-by,  and  so  gain  a  few  shillings  to  begin 
her  trade. 

They  lived  over  there  in  a  sad,  tumble-down 
place,  the  old  man  said,  "  and  he  never  thought 
to  bring  his  Jessie  to  that ;  but  the  Lord  had 
His  own  ways,  and  when  He  saw  fit.  He  could 
take  them  out  of  this  trouble." 

The  story  was  told  with  a  straightforward 
simplicity,  and  a  natural  pathos  whicli  went 
far  to  convince  Miss  Ashton  that  it  must  be 
true  ;  but  she  took  down  the  name  and  address 
of  the  clergyman  of  whom  the  old  man  spoke. 


Jessie  and  her  Grandfather,         67 

This  gentleman  lived  in  one  of  the  streets 
bordering  on  the  Park,  and  Miss  Ashton  re- 
solved to  see  him  and  hear  his  report  before 
she  left  for  home.  If  these  poor  people  were 
really  in  such  need,  and  deserving  of  help,  she 
could  not  let  them  suffer  longer  than  was  nec- 
essary. 

She  told  old  Malcolm  —  for  that  he  said  was 
his  name  —  that  he  did  not  do  well  to  rest 
upon  the  bank.  The  ground,  she  said,  was  not 
yet  warm  enough  for  his  aching  bones. 

But  he  answered  that  it  was  far  better  than 
the  damp,  cold  shanty  where  he  and  Jessie  had 
lived  for  the  last  two  months,  for  here  on  a 
bright  day  he  had  the  sunshine,  and  the  fresh, 
clear  air,  and  little  of  either  of  these  ever 
found  their  way  into  the  miserable  cabin. 

Malcolm's  language  and  manner,  as  well  as 
those  of  his  grand-daughter,  showed  that  he 
had  indeed  been  used  to  "  better  days ;  "  and 
he  seemed  so  patient  and  uncomplaining  that 
Miss  Ashton  felt  much  interested  in  him, 
and  anxious  to  do  something  for  his  relief 


68  yessiVs  Parrot, 

She  bade  him  come  farther  on,  and  find  a 
seat  upon  a  pleasant,  sunny  bench,  where  she 
would  furnish  him  and  Jessie  with  some  food  ; 
but  when  she  said  this,  he  told  her  some  of  the 
little  ones  of  her  party  were  afraid  of  him, 
and  he  did  not  wish  to  trouble  them. 

He  looked  troubled  himself  when  he  said 
this ;  and  Miss  Ashton  had  to  tell  him  that 
one  of  her  young  scholars  had  been  so  foolish 
and  wrong  as  to  tell  a  falsehood  —  she  could 
call  it  nothing  less  —  to  frighten  the  others ; 
but  that  they  all  knew  the  truth  now,  and  would 
be  afraid  of  him  no  longer. 


'"^^^ 


lY. 


TEE  PARROT. 


lEANWHILE  the  children  were  amus- 
ing themselves  with  the  parrot.  The 
whole  flock  had  followed  Jessie  to 
make  his  acquaintance,  Maggie  having  called 
the  others  to  join  them  ;  and  even  the  still  sob- 
bing Belle  forgot  her  troubles  in  this  new 
object  of  interest. 

The  bird  proved  to  be  in  a  most  amiable 
and  sociable  humor  ;  and,  to  the  great  delight 
of  his  former  little  mistress,  exhibited  himself 
in  a  most  gratifying  manner. 

His  cage  was  placed  before  a  little  stand 
just  outside  of  a  window  opening  upon  the 


70  Jessie's  Parrot. 

verandah ;  and  when  the  children  first  saw 
him  he  was  swinging  head  downwards  from 
one  of  the  bars,  hanging  by  one  claw,  and  ap- 
pearing to  take  no  notice  of  any  thing  until 
Jessie  called  to  him. 

Then  he  put  out  the  other  claw,  and  swung 
himself  upright ;  immediately  commencing  a 
kind  of  dance  upon  his  perch,  as  if  in  an 
ecstacy,  and  calling  out, — 

"Jessie!  Jessie!  pretty  Jessie,  good  Jessie." 

"  Good  Polly,"  said  Jessie,  while  the  chil- 
dren gathered  around  in  great  delight.  "  How 
are  you,  Polly  ?  " 

"  Polly  pretty  well;  Polly  all  right,"  answered 
the  bird. 

The  little  girls  were  astonished,  as  indeed 
were  the  ladies  who  had  accompanied  them. 
Not  one  among  the  group  but  had  often  seen 
parrots  who  would  repeat  certain  set  phrases, 
but  this  bird  actually  answered  questions,  and 
as  if  he  understood  them  too. 

"  What  does  Polly  want  ?  "  asked  Jessie,  de- 
lighted at  the  sensation  her  pet  was  producing. 


The  Parrot,  71 

"  Polly  want  a  bit  of  sugar,"  answered  the 
bird. 

Jessie  put  her  hand  into  her  pocket,  and 
produced  one  of  the  sugar-plums  the  children 
had  thrown  to  her,  and  held  it  up  before  the 
parrot's  greedy  eyes. 

"  Dance  a  jig  then,  and  sing  a  song,  Polly," 
she  said. 

Polly  forthwith  commenced  a  kind  of  see- 
saw on  his  perch,  swaying  his  body  back  and 
forth,  balancing  himself  first  on  one  foot,  then 
on  the  other,  in  a  measured  sort  of  way  which 
he  probably  supposed  to  be  dancing.  At  any 
rate,  his  audience  were  contented  to  accept  it 
as  such,  and  he  met  with  continued  applause, 
until  suddenly  bringing  his  gyrations  to 
a  close  he  screamed  in  a  loud,  discordant 
voice,  — 

"Sugar!" 

"  Sing  then,"  said  Jessie. 

In  a  sharp,  cracked,  but  very  distinct  voice, 
and  with  some  resemblance  to  a  tune,  the  par- 
rot began,  — 


72  yesste's  Parrot, 

"  Mary  had  a  little  lamb, 

Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow, 
And  everywhere  that "  — 

Here  he  came  to  an  abrupt  close,  eying  the 
sugar-plum  wistfully. 

''  Sing  it,"  said  Jessie  ;  and  he  began  again. 

"  Mary  had  a  little  lamb, 

Its  fleece  was  white  as  snow, 
And  everywhere  that  Mary  went. 

The  lamb  —  sugar  —  sugar  —  sugar,'* 

screamed  the  creature,  amid  peals  of  laughter 
from  the  children,  who  now  begged  that  he 
might  have  the  coveted  reward,  which  Jessie 
accordingly  gave  him. 

"  He  knows  it  all,"  she  said ;  "  but  I  can 
hardly  ever  make  him  sing  it  through." 

Poll  took  the  sugar-plum  gingerly  in  one 
claw,  and  sat  nibbling  at  it  till  it  was  all  gone, 
while  the  children  crowded  around  him,  ad- 
miring his  gay,  bright-colored  feathers,  and 
expressing  their  wonder  at  his  accomplishments 
and  sense. 

"  Now  you  must  show  off  some  more," 
said  Jessie,  when  the  bird   had   disposed  of 


The  Parrot,  73 

his  feast.  "Polly,  where  is  the  naughty 
child  ? " 

To  the  intense  delight  of  the  children.  Poll 
began  to  scream  and  cry  exactly  like  a  passion- 
ate child,  after  which  he  laup,'hed  and  chuckled 
with  satisfaction  at  his  own  performances, 
then  crowed  like  a  rooster,  baa-ed  like  a  nanny- 
goat,  barked  like  a  dog,  and  mewed  like  a  cat. 
After  all  this  he  took  up  intelligent  conversa- 
tion again. 

"  Polly's  a  pr-r-r-etty  bird  ;  Polly's  a  good 
bird  ;  Polly's  a  wise  bird,"  he  screamed,  in  all 
of  which  his  little  hearers  entirely  agreed. 

"  Who  do  you  love,  Polly  ?  "  asked  Jessie. 

"  Polly  love  Jessie ;  Jessie  a  good  girl,"  was 
the  answer. 

"  Where's  your  master,  Polly  ?  " 

"  Bob  Malcolm  gone  to  sea.  Good-bye, 
good-bye,  good-bye,"  screamed  the  parrot. 

"  Sing  a  song  of" —  began  Jessie,  and  the 
parrot  took  up  the  strain. 

"  Sing  a  song  of  sixpence, 
A  pocket  full  of  rye  "  — 


74  Jessie's  Parrot. 

Here  lie  came  to  a  stop,  nor  could  lie  be 
coaxed  to  finish  the  couplet,  though  Jessie 
assured  the  audience  that  he  could,  if  he  chose, 
sing  the  first  four  lines  of  the  old  song  all 
through. 

However,  he  condescended  to  repeat  some 
0.  his  former  performances.  But  it  would 
take  too  long  to  tell  all  the  feats  of  this  remark- 
able bird ;  and  you  must  not  think  that  these 
I  have  related  are  quite  impossible,  for  I  have 
seen  a  parrot  who  could  do  all  that  is  here 
described,  and  more  too.  The  children  were 
so  interested  and  amused  that  they  could 
scarcely  be  persuaded  to  leave  him  when 
Patrick  announced  that  their  lunch  was  ready ; 
and  Jessie,  who  was  bidden  by  Miss  Asliton  to 
join  her  grandfather  and  share  the  meal  pro 
vided  for  him,  was  begged  to  keep  within  call, 
so  that  they  might  return  to  the  entertainment 
when  they  had  finished  their  lunch. 

While  this  was  going  on.  Miss  Ashton  told 
the  story  she  had  heard  from  old  Malcolm,  and 
said  that  she  was  so  much  interested  in  him 


The  Parrot.  75 

and  his  grandcliild,  that  she  would  go  after 
hmch  and  see  the  clergyman,  while  the  little 
girls  amused  themselves  for  a  while  under  the 
care  of  the  other  ladies.  She  carried  out  this 
purpose,  and  went  on  her  kind  errand,  followed 
by  many  a  hope  that  she  would  find  the  story 
all  correct. 

But  when  the  children  went  back  to  the 
parrot  they  were  disappointed,  for  he  proved 
cross  or  tired  or  in  a  less  sociable  mood  than 
he  had  been  before,  and  he  very  rudely  turned 
his  back  upon  them,  and  would  utter  no  words 
save, — 

"  Hold  your  tongue  !  Hold  your  tongue  !  " 
every  time  any  one  spoke  to  him.  So,  finding 
this  neither  polite  nor  amusing,  the  company 
left  him  and  scattered  themselves  in  search  of 
other  entertainment. 

"  How  sober  you  look,  Maggie ;  what  are 
you  thinking  about  ? "  asked  Hattie  Leroy, 
coming  up  to  where  Maggie  Bradford  stood 
leaning  upon  a  stone  railing. 

Maggie  looked  thoughtful,  it  may  be,  but 


76  Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

hardly  sober,  for  her  thoughts  seemed  pleasant 
ones,  to  judge  by  the  light  m  her  eye,  and  the 
half  smile  upon  her  lip. 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  said  Maggie,  "  and  I 
think  it's  a  nice  one,  at  least  if  we  are  allowed 
to  do  it." 

"  Wliat  is  it  ?  "  asked  Hattie. 

"  "Well,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  don't  care  to  have 
it  talked  about  very  much  till  we  know  if  we 
can  do  it ;  but  I  was  thinking  it  would  be  so 
nice  if  we  could  have  a  little  fair,  just  our 
selves,  you  know,  the  school-children  and 
Bessie  and  me.  I  know  some  children  who 
had  a  fair  in  their  own  house,  and  they  made 
money  enough  to  pay  for  a  bed  in  St.  Luke's 
Hospital  for  a  poor,  lame  child ;  and  I  thought 
perhaps  we  could  make  enough  to  buy  back 
Jessie's  parrot  for  her ;  and  to  make  a  more 
comfortable  home  for  them.  TVe  could  make 
things  for  the  fair,  and  ask  our  friends  to  help 
us.  Mamma  would  make  some  for  us,  I  know, 
and  so  will  Aunt  Annie,  and,  I  think,  Aunt 
Bessie  and  Aunt  May." 


The  Parrot,  77 

"  Where  could  we  have  it  ? "  asked  Hattie, 
who  seemed  much  interested. 

"  In  one  of  our  own  houses,"  said  Maggie,  "or, 
—  that  was  another  thought  I  had,  —  perhaps 
Miss  Ashton  would  be  so  very  good  as  to  let  us 
have  it  at  her  house.  The  piazza  would  be 
lovely  for  it ;  and  she  generally  lets  us  have 
some  party -ish  kind  of  a  thing  when  school 
breaks  up.  Last  year  we  had  a  giving  of 
prizes  ;  and  at  Christmas  we  had  a  Christmas 
festival,  and  a  queen  both  times." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hattie, ''  and  Gracie  said  it  was 
shameful  that  you  were  queen  both  times. 
She  thinks  it  was  very  selfish  in  you." 

Maggie  colored  violently. 

"  The  queen  was  chosen,"  she  said,  "  and  the 
girls  chose  me.     I  did  not  make  myself  queen." 

"  Well,  Gracie  did  not  like  it  one  bit,"  said 
Hattie,  "  and  she  thinks  you  had  no  right  to  be 
queen  when  you  did  not  go  to  the  school  the 
last  time." 

Maggie  was  silent,  but  the  gladness  was 
gone  from  her  face. 


78  Jessie's  Parrot. 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  too  cold  to  have  the  fan-  on 
the  piazza  ?  "  asked  Hattie. 

''  Not  by  the  time  we  are  ready,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  You  know  it  will  take  a  good  while  to 
make  enough  things,  and  Miss  Ash  ton  does 
not  close  the  school  till  the  first  of  June.  I 
heard  her  tell  mamma  so  the  other  day.  And 
by  that  time  it  will  be  quite  warm  and  plea- 
sant, and  there  will  be  plenty  of  flowers.  I 
was  thinking  we  could  dress  the  piazza  with 
wreaths  and  festoons  and  flags  ;  and  we  could 
make  some  kind  of  a  throne  and  canopy  at  one 
end.  And  there  we  could  have  the  flower-table 
and  the  queen  behind  it,  with  some  maids  of 
honor  to  sell  flowers." 

If  Maggie  imagined  that  Hattie  would 
express  any  admiration  or  approval  of  her 
plan,  she  was  mistaken.  Hattie  seemed  inter- 
ested, and  asked  a  great  many  questions,  as  to 
how  Maggie  would  arrange  such  and  such 
matters,  but  she  did  not  act  as  if  she  thought 
the  "  idea"  very  fine  after  all,  and  this  was 
rather  different  from  the  way  in  which  Maggie 


The  Parrot.  79 

was  accustomed  to  have  her  plans  received. 
But  she  did  not  care  for  that ;  she  was  not  a 
vain  child,  constantly  seeking  for  admiration, 
and  she  was  too  full  of  her  subject  to  pay  much 
heed  to  Hattie's  cool  way  of  hearing  this 
one. 

^*  I'm  not  going  to  say  much  about  it  till  I 
see  if  mamma  approves,"  she  said.  "  Then 
I'll  ask  Miss  Ashton  and  tell  all  the  children 
about  it.  There  are  Bessie  and  Lily  beckoning 
to  me  ;  let  us  go  and  see  what  they  want." 

And  away  she  ran,  intending  to  tell  her 
sister  and  Belle  and  Lily  of  her  plan  on  the 
first  convenient  opportunity  ;  but  not  willing, 
as  she  had  said,  to  make  it  public  till  she 
learned  if  it  could  be  carried  out.  She  did 
not  yet  feel  as  if  she  knew  Hattie  very  well, 
and  she  was  rather  astonished  at  herself  for 
having  talked  so  freely  to  her ;  but  the  truth 
was,  that  Hattie  had  come  upon  her  rather  un- 
awares, and  asked  her  what  she  was  thinking 
of,  at  the  moment  when  she  was  turning  her 
"  idea"  over  in  her  mind,  and  she  had  told  hor 


8o  Jessie's  Parrot. 

almost  without  reflection.  Still  she  did  not 
exactly  regret  having  done  so,  and,  after  what 
she  had  said,  never  supposed  that  Hattie  would 
mention  what  she  had  told  her. 

Upright,  honorable  Maggie  judged  others  by 
herself,  and  was  entirely  unsuspicious  of  evil. 

It  would  take  too  much  space  in  this  little 
book,  and  you  would  not  care  to  have  a 
particular  description  of  all  the  various  points 
of  interest  visited  by  our  party  throughout 
the  day,  —  the  Arsenal  with  its  collection  of 
wild  beasts  and  monkeys  ;  the  great  reservoir 
with  its  blue  water,  looking  like  a  lake  within 
^alls,  as  indeed  it  is ;  the  lovely  Ramble 
through  which  they  wandered  for  a  long  time, 
and  many  another  pleasant  spot.  They  are  all 
familiar  to  many  of  you,  and  those  to  whom 
they  are  not,  may  make  acquaintance  with 
them  some  day. 

You  may  be  sure  that  Miss  Ashton  did  not 
leave  old  Malcolm  and  his  grand-daughter 
without  some  remembrance  of  this  day,  for  she 
was  not  only  very  sorry  for  them  and  felt  that 


The  Parrot.  8i 

they  were  really  in  need  of  assistance,  but  she 
also  knew  that  Jessie  and  her  wonderful  bird 
had  added  much  to  the  entertainment  of  hei 
little  flock.  She  gave  Jessie  money  enough  to 
furnish  herself  with  materials  to  begin  her  little 
trade  again,  and,  leaving  her  address  with  her, 
bade  her  bring  some  of  her  pretty  toys  to  her 
house  when  they  should  be  made. 

They  were  all  in  the  omnibus  once  more, 
and  had  started  on  their  homeward  way,  all 
rather  tired  and  quiet  with  the  day's  ramble, 
when  what  was  Maggie's  astonishment  to  hear 
Hattie  say,  — 

"  Miss  Ashton,  Maggie  and  I  have  such  a 
very  nice  plan.  We  thought  we  might  have  a 
fair,  just  us  children,  and  ask  our  friends  to 
help  us ;  and  then  we  could  sell  the  things  we 
made,  or  that  were  given  to  us,  and  so  earn  a 
good  deal  of  money  to  help  Jessie  and  her 
grandfather,  and  to  buy  back  the  parrot  for 
her.  And  we  might  have  it  when  the  weather 
is  warm  and  pleasant,  just  before  school  closes, 
so   that  we  could  have  it  out  of  doors ;  and 


82  Jessie's  Parrot. 

perhaps,  Miss  Asliton,  you  would  not  mind 
letting  us  hold  it  on  your  piazza  and  in  the 
garden.  And  Jessie  might  make  some  of  her 
pretty  baskets  and  things  for  it,  and  we  could 
sell  them  for  her.  We  thought  we  could  raise 
a  good  deal  of  money  that  way,  for  almost  all 
our  friends  would  be  glad  to  come." 

It  would  be  hard  to  tell  whether  indignation 
or  surprise  was  uppermost  in  Maggie's  mind, 
as  she  sat  utterly  speechless  and  confounded, 
while  Hattie  ran  on  thus,  disclosing  in  this 
public  manner  the  plans  which  she  had  said 
were  to  be  kept  secret  until  her  own  mamma 
and  Miss  Ashton  had  heard  and  approved  of 
them. 

Yes,  here  was  Hattie  not  only  doing  this, 
but  speaking  as  if  she  had  been  the  inventor 
of  the  cherished  "  idea,"  and  as  if  Maggie  had 
only  fallen  in  with  it,  perhaps  helped  it  out  a 
little. 

Maggie  was  too  shy  to  speak  out  as  many 
children  would  have  done,  and  to  say,  — 

"  That  was  my  plan,  Miss  Ashton.      I  was 


The  Parrot,  83 

• 
the   first   one    to    think    of  that ; "  and    she 

sat  with  her  color  changing,  and  her  eyes  fixed 

wonder ingly    and  reproachfully  on  Hattie  as 

she  spoke,  feeling  somehow  as  if  she  had  been 

wronged,  and  yet  not  exactly  seeing  the  way 

to  right  herself. 

''  Oh  !  that  would  be  delightful,"  said  Gracie. 
*'  Miss  Ashton,  do  you  think  you  could  let  us 
do  it  ? " 

"  Well,  I  might,"  said  Miss  Ashton.  "  That 
is  not  a  bad  idea,  Hattie.  I  will  talk  to  my 
mother  about  it  and  see  what  she  thinks,  and 
you  may  all  tell  your  friends  at  home,  and 
learn  if  they  approve." 

"  If  we  could  have  the  fair  on  your  piazza," 
continued  Hattie  eagerly,  "  we  could  dress  it 
up  very  prettily  with  wreaths  and  flowers,  and 
we  could  make  a  kind  of  a  bower  at  one  end,  and 
choose  one  of  the  girls  for  a  queen,  and  let  it 
be  her  throne-room,  and  there  we  could  have 
the  flower-table.  Some  of  the  children  told 
me  you  always  let  them  have  a  festival  before 
vacation,  Miss  Ashton ;  and  we  might  put  it 


84  yesste's  Parrot. 

off  till  a  little  later,  so  that  it  would  be  warm 
and  pleasant,  and  we  should  have  plenty  of 
flowers." 

There  was  not  one  of  the  children  who  did 
not  raise  her  voice  in  favor  of  the  new  plan 
except  Nellie  Ransom,  who  sat  opposite  to 
Maggie,  and  who  watched  her  changing  face, 
and  looked  from  her  to  Hattie  with  inquiring 
and  rather  suspicious  looks. 

Lily  clapped  her  hands,  and  almost  sprang 
from  her  seat. 

^'  I'll  begin  to  work  for  the  fair  this  very 
evening  !  "  she  said.  "  No  more  of  your  put- 
ting off  forme.  "I'll  bring  down  mamma's 
ribbon-box  and  worsted-box,  if  she'll  let  me, 
and  ask  her  what  I  can  have,  and  to-morrow 
I'll  ask  her  to  let  me  make  something." 

"  And  we'll  ask  mamma  and  Aunt  Annie, 
won't  we,  Maggie  ?  "  said  Bessie  ;  "  and 
Belle,  we'll  ask  them  for  some  things  for  you 
too." 

Bessie  received  no  answer  from  Maggie,  who, 
feeling  as  if  the  whole  matter  had  been  taken 


The  Parrot.  85 

out  of  lier  hands,  poor  child,  and  as  if  she  had 
been  robbed  of  her  property,  dared  not  speak, 
lest  she  should  burst  into  tears. 

"  I  have  a  whole  lot  of  money  saved  up," 
said  Lily,  ''  and  I'll  take  some  of  it  to  buy 
what  I  want  to  make  pretty  things,  and  keep 
the  rest  to  spend  at  the  fair." 

"  Haven't  you  to  pay  your  missionary  money 
to  our  box  yet  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

''  Well,  I  haven't  paid  it  yet,"  said  Lily,  ''  but 
I  don't  know  if  I  will  give  a  dollar  this  year. 
I've  supported  the  heathen  for  two  years  now, 
and  I  think  I'd  like  a  little  change  of  charity. 
Wouldn't  you,  Maggie  ?  " 

Maggie  only  nodded  assent,  scarce  knowing 
what  question  she  was  replying  to. 

"  Maggie,"  said  Belle,  "  you  don't  seem 
very  interested  ;  why  don't  you  talk  about 
the  fair  and  give  us  new  ideas,  as  you  'most 
always  do  ?  " 

'-'-  Does  something  provoke  you  or  trouble 
you,  Maggie,  dear  ? "  asked  Bessie,  looking 
into  her  sister's  perplexed  face. 


86  jfessiVs  Parrot. 

"  Hattie,"  said  Nellie  suddenly,  fixing  lier 
eyes  scarchingly  on  the  little  girl  slie  addressed, 
"  what  put  that  idea  of  the  fair  into  your 
head?" 

"  Oh  !  "  answered  Hattie  in  some  confusion, 
"I  —  that  is,  we,  Maggie  and  I,  just  thought 
it  would  be  nice,  and  so  we  talked  about  it  a 
little,  and  made  up  our  minds  to  ask  Miss 
Ashton  about  it." 

Quick-witted  Lily  caught  Nellie's  suspicion, 
and  so  did  Bessie ;  and  the  former,  who  had 
worn  an  air  of  displeasure  with  Hattie  ever  since 
the  affair  of  the  morning,  asked  promptly,  — 

"  Who  was  the  jir%t  to  make  up  that  idea,  — 
the  fair  and  the  queen  in  the  flower  bower, 
and  dressing  the  piazza  and  all  ?  Who  was  it, 
I  say?" 

"  Well, "  answered  Hattie  reluctantly, 
"  Maggie  was  the  first  to  think  about  it,  and 
we  talked  it  over  together  and  arranged  it 
all." 

''I  knew  it  I"  cried  Lily  triumphantly  ;  "  I  just 
knew  it  was  Maggie.     It  sounds  just  like  her 


The  Parrot.  87 

making  up.  Hattie,"  she  added  reproachfully, 
"  you  tried  to  make  us  think  it  was  yours." 

"  I  didn't,"  said  Hattie.     "  I  never  said  so." 

'-'-  You  didn't  just  my  so,"  said  Bessie 
solemnly,  "  but  you  tried  to  give  that  depres- 
sion ^ 

"  I  didn't,"  pouted  Hattie  again ;  "  and  we 
did  talk  about  it  together,  didn't  we,  Maggie  ?  " 

Maggie  only  gave  a  faint  smile  by  way  of 
answer,  for  she  felt  that  she  could  not  honestly 
allow  that  Hattie  had  suggested  one  single 
idea ;  and  still  she  was  too  generous  to  wish 
to  blame  her  more  than  she  could  avoid. 

And  for  the  second  time  that  day  was  Hattie 
made  to  feel  tliat  her  want  of  strict  truthful- 
ness had  lowered  her  in  the  eyes  of  her  young 
companions. 

"  Umph  !  "  said  Lily  severely ;  "  appears  to 
me,  Miss  Hattie  "  — 

But  she  was  not  allowed  to  finish  the  intend- 
ed reproach,  for  Miss  Ashton,  seeing  symp- 
toms of  a  quarrel,  hastened  to  avert  it,  and 
gently  bade  Lily  be  quiet. 


88  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

Lily  obeyed  ;  but  her  eye  still  rested  sternly 
upon  Hattie,  and  the  latter  was  forced  to  bear 
more  than  one  disapproving  gaze  during  the 
remainder  of  the  drive  home. 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Miss  Ashton  to  her 
mother  that  evening,  "  that  Hattie  Leroy  is  by 
no  means  a  truthful  child ; "  and  she  told  of 
the  occurrences  of  the  day,  adding  that  it  was 
not  the  first  time  she  had  noticed  a  want  of 
openness  and  uprightness,  little  acted  deceits, 
a  keeping  back  of  the  whole  truth,  and  even, 
now  and  then  a  deliberate  falsehood ;  and 
more  than  all,  a  manner  of  repeating  a  thing 
which  gave  it  a  very  different  meaning  from 
what  the  speaker  intended,  so  often  making 
mischief  and  discomfort. 

"  That  is  bad,  very  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton ; 
"  it  may  affect  the  other  children." 

"  I  would  rather  hope  that  they  may  have  a 
good  influence  on  her,"  answered  her  daughter. 
"  The  standard  of  truth  is  so  high  in  our 
school,  thanks,  I  believe,  to  dear  little  Bessie 
Bradford,  Maggie,  Belle,  and  one  or  two  others, 


The  Parrot,  89 

that  any  departure  from  it  is  considered  a  very 
serious  offence.  Lily,  with  all  her  thouglitless 
ness  and  love  of  mischief,  is  strictly  truthful ; 
so  are  Dora  and  Nellie.  Gracie  is  the  only  one 
for  whom  I  fear,  for,  although  I  think  she  would 
be  shocked  at  the  idea  of  telling  a  deliberate 
untruth,  her  conceit  and  wish  to  be  first  are  so 
great  that  they  often  lead  her  to  exaggerate 
and  give  a  false  coloring  to  what  she  says  of 
herself  as  compared  with  others." 


y. 


GRANDMAMMA    HOWARD. 


HE  proposal  for  the  fair  met  with  a 
pretty    general    approval    from   the 
parents  and  friends  of  the  little  girls, 
and  tliey  received  many  promises  of  help. 

"-  Aunt  Annie  "  undertook  to  show  Maggie, 
Bessie,  and  Belle  how  to  make  any  pretty 
articles  they  might  wish  to  undertake.  Lily's 
mamma  did  the  same  for  her,  and  none  of  the 
children  were  left  entirely  without  assistance. 

"When  Jessie  came  to  Miss  Ashton  with  her 
pretty  little  wares,  she  was  told  what  was  pro- 
posed, and  bidden  to  liave  as  large  a  supply  as 
possible,  so  that  they  might  be  offered  for  sale 
with  the  other  articles  ;  and  the  lady  and  some 


Grandmamma  Howard »  pr 

of  her  friends  kindly  bought  so  many  of  those 
already  on  hand  that  Jessie  was  furnished  with 
the  means  of  procuring  her  materials  at  once. 

The  older  class  in  Mrs.  Ash  ton's  room  also 
entered  with  spirit  into  the  affair,  promising  all 
the  assistance  that  they  could  give,  so  that 
there  was  good  prospect  it  would  be  a  success. 
The  time  fixed  was  the  first  day  of  June,  if 
the  weather  should  be  pleasant ;  if  not,  the 
first  fair  day  after  that. 

One  morning  Gracie  Howard  came  to  school 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement. 

"  My  grandmamma,"  she  said  to  the  other 
children,  "  takes  the  greatest  interest  in  our 
fair,  and  she  is  going  to  give  us  ever  so  many 
things  for  it.  She  told  me  to  invite  you  all  to 
come  to  her  house  this  afternoon,  and  she  has 
a  whole  lot  of  pieces  of  silk  and  ribbons,  and 
worsteds  and  beads,  and  ever  so  many  lovely 
things  to  divide  among  us.  And  what  is  bet- 
ter still,  she  says  she  would  like  each  child  to 
make  some  article  expressly  for  her,  and  she 
will  buy  it." 


92  Jessie^s  Pari'ot. 

"  Oh,  delightful !  "  "  How  kind  !  how  nice ! " 
"What  a  great  help!"  came  from  one  and 
another  of  her  little  hearers. 

"  And,"  continued  Grade,  warming  with 
her  subject,  "she  wants  some  particular 
things.  Two  toilet  sets  of  lace  and  muslin, 
one  lined  and  trimmed  with  blue,  the  other 
with  pink  ;  and  two  mats  for  flower  vases,  to  be 
exactly  alike.  I  am  going  to  do  one  of  the 
mats,  and  grandmamma  says  she  thinks  the 
other  one  and  both  the  toilet  sets  had  better 
be  made  by  some  of  us  older  children,  because 
she  thinks  the  little  ones  can  scarcely  do  them. 
And  she  will  give  ten  dollars  for  the  mat  that 
is  worked  the  most  nicely  and  evenly,  and 
nine  for  the  other  ;  eight  for  the  best  toilet  set, 
and  se\en  for  the  second;  and  she  will  give 
us  all  the  materials.  Just  think  of  that ! 
Why,  whoever  has  the  best  mat  will  earn  more 
than  the  price  of  Jessie's  parrot !  I  wanted 
grandmamma  to  say  that  one  might  have  the 
buying  of  the  parrot  for  her  own  part ;  but 
she  said  that  would  not  be  just  to  the  rest  who 


Grandmamma  Howard.  93 

had  a  share  in  the  fair ;  and  that  she  had  no 
right  to  say  so,  either.  I  don't  see  why,  and 
1  think  she  might  have  let  me." 

''  Why,  you  don't  know  that  you  will  have 
the  nicest  mat,"  said  Lily. 

"  See  if  I  don't  then,"  said  Gracie.  "  I  can 
work  much  better  than  any  of  you,  I  know."    . 

"  If  I  didn't  live  in  such  a  very  glass  house 
myself,  I'd  say  petticoat  to  you,"  said  Lily, 
who  had  lately  shown  a  fancy  for  the  use  of 
proverbs,  after  the  manner  of  Maggie  Bradford. 

Gracie  tossed  her  head,  and  put  on  the  ex- 
pression which  children  call,  "  turning  up  their 
noses." 

She  knew  very  well  what  Lily  meant,  how 
not  long  since  she  had  boasted  of  herself,  and 
been  so  very  sure  that  she  would  outdo  all 
others,  and  how  she  had  miserably  failed  in 
the  end. 

But,  in  spite  of  this  consciousness,  she  was 
not  at  all  taken  down  by  Lily's  reminder,  for 
she  felt  herself  a  person  of  more  than  usual 
consideration  and   importance  that  morning; 


94  Jessie^s  Pa7'rot, 

not  without  more  than  ordinary  reason,  was 
thought  by  most  of  her  companions,  for  it  was 
really  a  fine  thing  to  have  sucli  a  munificent 
grandmamma,  who  was  ready  to  do  so  much 
for  the  grand  object  at  present  in  the  minds 
of  each  and  every  one. 

It  was  true  also,  and  well  known  in  the 
school  that  Gracie  did  worsted  work  remark- 
ably well  and  evenly  for  a  little  girl,  and  that 
there  was  more  reason  than  common  for  her 
belief  that  she  should  outshine  all  the  others. 
Still  her  constant  boasting  was  never  agreeable, 
and  Lily  always  would  set  herself  to  combat  it 
with  all  her  might. 

"  Are  not  Maggie  and  Bessie  to  try  with  us 
too  ?  "  she  asked. 

''  Of  course,"  answered  Gracie  ;  "  they  are 
just  as  much  in  the  fair  as  we  are ;  and  Mag- 
gie works  so  nicely." 

"  Should  think  she  did,"  said  Lily  ;  "  better 
than  a-ny — child — in — the — whole — ivorldP 

The  extreme  deliberation  with  which  this 
was  said,  made  it  very  forcible,  and  gave  the 


Grandmamma  Howai'd.  95 

remark  all  the  point  which  was  intended. 
Woe  to  the  person  who,  in  Lily's  hearing,  ven- 
tured to  deny  that  her  particular  friends,  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie  Bradford,  were  not  all  that  was 
wisest,  best,  and  prettiest. 

"  Besides,"  said  Belle,  "  Bessie  was  the  first 
to  find  out  Jessie  and  her  grandfather,  so  it 
seems  as  if  it  was  very  much  her  charity  and 
Maggie's.  Good-morning,  dear  Miss  Ashton  ;  " 
and  little  Belle  flew  to  meet  her  teacher,  whom 
she  dearly  loved,  and  began  to  tell  her  of 
this  new  and  delightful  arrangement. 

But  she  had  hardly  commenced  when  she 
checked  herself,  and  saying,  — 

"  But  it  is  Grade's  to  tell  about,  and  I  ex- 
pect she  would  like  to,"  turned  to  her  school- 
mate, and  allowed  her,  nothing  loath,  to  take 
up  the  tale. 

Miss  Ashton  approved,  and  readily  consent- 
ed to  what  was  proposed  ;  but  she  was  sorry 
to  see  that,  as  usual,  Gracie  took  the  chief  cred- 
it, and  claimed  the  first  place  for  herself  in 
the  new  plan ;  seeming,  as  before,  not  to  have 


96  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

the  slightest  doubt  that  her  work  would  be  the 
best,  and  bring  the  highest  premium.  How- 
ever, she  would  say  nothing  now  to  damp  the 
general  pleasure  and  enthusiasm,  but  called 
her  young  flock  to  the  business  of  the  day 
without  reproof  or  remonstrance. 

On  the  way  home  from  school,  Grade 
called  to  invite  Maggie  and  Bessie  to  her 
grandmamma's  house  that  afternoon ;  and  at 
the  appointed  hour  the  whole  "  committee,"  as 
Maggie  called  it,  were  assembled  in  the  drawing- 
room  of  the  kind  old  lady. 

"  Now,"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  "  we  will  settle 
first  who  among  you  are  to  take  these  pieces 
of  work.  Gracie  seemed  to  think  that  all  who 
were  able  to  work  nicely  would  prefer  worsted 
work,  so  I  have  here  two  pairs  of  mats,  as  well 
as  the  toilet  sets  ;  and  you  may  decide  for 
yourselves  which  you  will  take.  As  for  the 
younger  ones,  I  will  leave  it  to  them  to  choose 
the  things  they  will  make  for  me,  as  each  one 
knows  what  she  is  best  able  to  do." 

Gracie  looked  dismayed  and  displeased  at 


Grandmamma  Howard,  97 

the  first  part  of  her  grandmother's  speech ; 
and,  not  daring  to  object  aloud,  she  whispered 
to  Hattie,  who  stood  next  her,  — 

"It's  too  bad !  There  grandmamma  goes 
and  gives  three  chances  against  me." 

"  Never  mind,  you'll  have  the  first," 
answered  Hattie  ;  "  you  know  you  work  better 
than  any  of  the  others." 

"  How  many  of  you,"  continued  the  old 
lady,  "  are  able  to  do  worsted  work  nicely  ?  " 

"  I  can,  grandmamma,  very  nicely,"  said 
Gracie  promptly,  while  the  others,  more  modest 
and  shy,  looked  from  one  to  another. 

"  Maggie  Bradford  works  very  nicely, 
ma'am,"  said  Nellie  Ransom. 

"  And  so  do  you  too,  my  dear,  if  I'm  not 
mistaken,"  said  Mrs.  Howard.  "  Would  you 
like  to  do  one  of  the  mats  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,"  said  Nellie,  and 
stepping  up,  Mrs.  Howard  gave  her  her  choice 
among  the  mats. 

"  Ah  !  you  have  made  the  same  choice  as 
Gracie,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  Well,  we  shall 
7 


pS  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

see  who  will  do  the  best.  Gracie,  take  the 
mat,  my  dear.  Now  for  the  other  pair, 
Maggie,  will  you  have  one  ?  " 

But  Maggie  held  back  a  little ;  and  at  length, 
with  many  blushes  said,  that  she  would  prefer 
to  take  one  of  the  toilet  sets,  because  Bessie 
was  anxious  to  help  her,  and  she  could  do 
some  of  the  easy  sewing  on  the  ruffles,  but 
she  could  not  do  worsted  work  evenly  enough 
to  go  with  her  own. 

Bora  took  one  of  the  second  pair  of  mats ; 
and  Hattie,  who  was  next  in  age,  and  who 
knew  very  little  about  embroidering,  chose  the 
other  toilet  set,  as  she  believed  she  could  do 
that  better  than  the  mat. 

Maggie  looked  wishfully  at  this,  and  Mrs. 
Howard  saw  the  look. 

"  Would  you  like  to  take  this  also,  Maggie, 
dear  ? "  she  said.  "  You  deserve  some  reward 
for  being  so  unselfish,  and  if  it  is  not  too  much 
for  you  to  undertake,  you  are  quite  welcome  to 
try  it.'' 

"  Oh  no,  ma'am  !  "  said  Maggie  with  bright- 


Grandmamma  Howard,  99 

ening  eyes  ;  "  we  have  nearly  seven  weeks,  you 
know,  and  with  Bessie's  help,  and  Aunt  Annie 
to  arrange  all  the  work  for  me,  I  think  I  could 
do  both.  But  I  don't  care  for  a  reward,  Mrs. 
Howard,  for  you  know  if  Jessie  and  her  grand 
father  have  the  money,  it  does  not  make  much 
difference  who  does  the  most." 

"  No,  truly,"  said  Mrs.  Howard  ;  "  and  it  is 
not  that  you  may  strive  to  outdo  one  another 
that  I  make  these  offers,  but  only  that  you 
may  all  try  your  best  to  have  the  work  well 
done.  I  am  an  old-fashioned  woman,  my 
dears,  and  I  like  to  see  every  little  girl  brought 
up  to  use  her  needle  properly,  and  to  keep  her 
things  in  order ;  so  I  say  that  it  is  not  so 
much  the  beauty  of  the  work,  as  the  care 
and  neatness  with  which  it  is  done  that  I  shall 
look  at.  Keep  it  from  spot  or  stain,  or  from 
being  frayed  or  rubbed ;  this  you  can  all  do 
with  proper  care." 

Then  Mrs.  Howard  repeated  how  much  she 
would  give  for  each  article,  promising  also 
once  more  to  buy  some  pretty  trifle  from  each 


ICX)  Jessie^  Parrot, 

of  the  younger  children ;  and  they  all  felt  as 
if  a  large  sum  was  already  secure  for  Jessie 
and  her  grandfather. 

After  this,  the  treasures  of  lace,  muslin, 
ribbons,  flowers,  beads,  and  worsteds  of  all 
colors  were  displayed  to  their  delighted  eyes, 
and  divided  with  as  much  fairness  as  was 
possible.  Not  a  child  but  carried  homo  with 
her  a  most  precious  package,  already  in  the 
eyes  of  the  little  ones  transformed  into  many 
an  article  of  use  and  beauty  for  the  benefit  of 
old  Malcolm  and  his  grandchild.  The  fair  was 
now  the  all-absorbing  subject  of  thought  and 
conversation  among  Miss  Ashton's  young 
scholars  and  their  little  friends,  Maggie  and 
Bessie  Bradford ;  and  a  fit  of  uncommon 
industry  had  seized  upon  each  and  every  one. 

But,  one  morning,  only  two  days  after  the 
meeting  of  the  young  people  at  her  house, 
Mrs.  Howard  was  surprised  to  hear  that 
Maggie  Bradford  wanted  to  see  her ;  and 
ordering  her  to  be  shown  in,  the  little  gir] 
entered,  followed  by  her  sister  and  nurse. 


Jessie's  Parrot, 


p.  100. 


Grandmamma  Howard,  loi 

Maggie  looked  flushed  and  uncomfortable, 
and  held  a  small  parcel  in  her  hand ;  but,  after 
she  had  said  good-morning  to  Mrs.  Howard 
a  fit  of  shyness  came  over  her,  and  she  could 
not  tell  her  errand. 

So  Bessie  spoke  for  her. 

"  Mrs.  Howard,"  said  the  little  girl,  who  was 
herself  rather  confused,  but  who  felt  bound 
to  help  Maggie  out  of  her  trouble,  "  Maggie 
has  come  to  bring  you  back  the  mat.  She 
thinks  it  is  rather  better  for  her  not  to  do  it." 

"  Did  you  find  you  had  undertaken  too 
much,  Maggie,  my  dear  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady 
encouragingly. 

"  N-n-no,  ma'am,"  whispered  Maggie,  pluck- 
ing up  a  few  crumbs  of  courage  as  she  heard 
the  kind  tone,  "no,  it  was  not  that ;  but  we 
thought  I'd  better  bring  it  back  to  you." 

"  But  you  must  have  some  reason,"  said 
Mrs.  Howard.  "  Can  you  not  tell  me  what  it 
is  ?  Has  Gracie  been  saying  any  thing  unkind 
to  you  ?  " 

"  Gracie  has  not  said  any  thing  to  me  about 
it,  ma'am,"  said  Maggie  rather  evasively. 


102  Jessie's  Parrot. 

"  Please  don't  ask  us,  Mrs.  Howard,"  said 
Bessie  gravely.  "  Maggie  and  I  overturned  our 
minds  about  it,  and  thought  we'd  better  bring 
back  the  mat;  but  we  do  not  want  to  tell 
tales." 

"  Then  I  shall  not  ask,"  said  Mrs.  Howard ; 
but  from  the  very  fact  that  Bessie  had  inno- 
cently begged  that  they  might  not  be  pressed 
to  "  tell  tales,"  she  felt  that  her  suspicions 
were  tolerably  correct.  Grade's  desire  to  be 
jirst^  and  the  fear  that  others  should  excel,  or 
even  equal  her,  were  becoming  so  great  that 
they  often  blinded  her  to  what  was  just  and 
kind. 

"There  are  plenty  of  pretty  things  that  we 
can  make,  Mrs.  Howard,"  said  Maggie,  "  and 
I  would  rather  not  do  any  thing  that  any  one 
might  think  was  not  my  share." 

''  Very  well,  dear,  as  you  please,"  answered 
the  old  lady  ;  "  but  since  you  do  not  choose  to 
make  this  I  shall  not  give  it  to  any  one  else." 

When  Maggie  and  Bessie  had  gone,  the  old 
lady  put  on  her  bonnet  and  went  around  to  her 


Grandmamma  Howard,  103 

son's  house,  where  she  found  her  little  grand- 
daughter at  home. 

"  Gracie,"  she  said,  after  a  little  talk, 
"  Maggie  Bradford  came  to  see  me  just  now, 
bringing  back  the  mat  which  she  was  to  have 
worked  for  the  fair.  Do  you  know  any  reason 
why  she  should  have  done  so  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  grandmamma  ! "  answered  Grracie, 
turning  her  eyes  upon  her  grandmother  in  un- 
feigned and  unmistakable  surprise,  which  left 
no  doubt  of  the  perfect  truth  of  her  answer. 

"  Think,"  said  the  old  lady,  believing  that 
she  might  have  forgotten.  "  You  know  you 
were  not  pleased  that  I  should  give  Maggie 
the  two  things  to  make  for  me  ;  have  you  said 
any  thing  that  could  hurt  her  feelings,  and  show 
her  that  you  were  displeased  ?  " 

"  I  never  said  one  word  to  Maggie  about 
the  mat,  grandmamma,"  said  Gracie,  "  and  I 
can't  see  how" —  she  paused,  as  if  struck  by 
some  sudden  thought,  and  coloring,  added  un- 
easily— "  I  did  talk  to  Hattie  about  it, 
and  I  was   rather   provoked,    because  I  did 


I04  yesste^s  Pm'rot. 

not  see  why  Maggie  should  have  a  better 
chance  than  the  rest  to  make  so  much  for  the 
fair.  And  —  and  —  perhaps  Hattie  went  and 
told  Maggie  ;  but  it  was  real  mean  of  her  if 
she  did ;  and  besides  there  was  nothing  for 
Maggie  to  be  so  mad  at,  and  make  such  a  fuss 
about." 

"  Maggie  was  not  *  mad,'  as  you  call  it, 
Gracie ;  so  far  from  it  that  she  would  say 
nothing  to  throw  blame  upon  you  or  any  one 
else,"  said  her  grandmother ;  "  but  it  was  plain 
that  she  had  been  vexed  and  hurt." 

"  Gracie,"  said  her  mother  who  sat  by,  "  it 
would  be  a  sad  thing  if  you  should  show  your- 
self so  wanting  in  feeling  and  gratitude  as 
to  say  unkind  things  of  Maggie,  or  to  injure 
her  in  any  way,  especially  in  such  a  matter  as 
this." 

"  Well,  mamma,  and  I'm  sure  I  wouldn't," 
said  Gracie,  with  a  little  pout.  "  I  am  very 
fond  of  Maggie,  and  I  wouldn't  do  a  thing  to 
her  ;  but  I  did  feel  rather  provoked  about  the 
mat,  only  I  did  not  mean  her  to  know  it.     I'm 


Grandmamma  Howard.  105 

just  going  to  ask  Hattie  if  she  told  her  what 
I  said." 

Gracie  was  really  uncomfortable.  She  re- 
membered that  she  had  in  a  moment  of  pet- 
tishness,  made  one  or  two  remarks  to  Hattie 
which  she  would  not  have  cared  to  make  in 
Maggie's  hearing ;  but  she  would  not  willingly 
have  offended  the  latter.  She  knew  very  well 
to  what  her  mother  referred  when  she  spoke 
of  Maggie.  How  a  year  ago  when  a  prize  had 
been  offered  for  composition  by  Miss  Ashton's 
uncle,  she  and  Maggie  had  been  believed  to 
stand  far  ahead  of  the  rest ;  how  her  own  com- 
position, all  ready  for  presentation,  had  been 
lost,  and  that  through  her  own  inordinate  van- 
ity ;  how  Maggie  and  Bessie  had  found  it,  and 
like  the  honorable  little  girls  they  were,  had 
brought  it  at  once  to  her,  although  they  believed 
that  by  so  doing  Maggie  was  deprived  of  all 
chance  of  the  much  wished-for  prize.  It  was 
true  that  neither  she  nor  Maggie  had  gained  it, 
for  it  had  fallen  to  Nellie  Ransom  ;  but  that 
did  not  lessen,  or  should  not  have  lessened, 


To6  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

Grade's  gratitude  to  her  little  friend ;  and  as 
her  mother  said,  it  ill  became  her  to  nm*se  any 
feeling  of  jealousy  towards  Maggie. 

"  Gracie,"  said  her  mother,  "  can  you  re- 
member exactly  what  you  said  about  Maggie  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma,"  answered  the  child,  looking 
thoughtful  and  a  little  troubled ;  "  but  it  was 
not  much,  I  think." 

"  I  am  afraid,"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  "  that  a 
very  little  sometimes  becomes  much  in  Hattie's 
keeping.  I  do  not  know  that  she  really  wishes 
to  make  mischief,  but  her  love  of  talking  and  her 
want  of  strict  truthfulness  lead  her  to  exag- 
gerate, and  also,  I  fear,  to  repeat  many  a  thing 
with  a  very  different  meaning  from  that  which 
the  speaker  intended.  The  more  I  see  of  her, 
the  plainer  does  this  become  to  me  ;  and  I  fear, 
Gracie,  that  she  is  not  a  safe  friend  for  you." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Gracie,  in  a  tone  of  some 
offence,  "  you'd  never  think  that  Hattie  could 
make  me  learn  to  tell  stories,  do  you  ?  Why, 
I  never  told  a  falsehood  in  my  life,  and  I'm 
sure  I'd  never  think  of  doing  such  a  thing." 


Grandinamma  Howard,  107 

"  I  am  sure  I  hope  not,  my  child,"  said  her 
mother,  "  but  I  fear  temptation  for  you,  Gracie  ; 
and  I  think  Hattie  encourages  you  in  your 
great  fault,  your  self-conceit  and  desire  for  ad- 
miration. And,  although  I  do  not  think  that 
you  ever  mean  to  be  untruthful,  my  daughter, 
your  idea  of  your  own  merits  often  leads  you 
into  exaggeration  of  these,  and  makes  you  un- 
willing to  see  them  in  others." 

Gracie  pouted,  and  put  on  the  expression  she 
always  wore  if  she  were  found  fault  with. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  "  I  think  that  is  a  very 
horrid  character  to  give  any  one  ;  and  I  am  sure 
you  need  not  think  I  ever  could  tell  a  falsehood 
or  do  any  thing  mean  to  any  one." 

"  I  do  not  say  you  would,  Gracie.  I  only 
want  you  to  beware  of  temptation." 

"  I  shan't  fall  into  temptation,  no  fear  of 
that,"  said  Gracie  almost  scornfully  ;  not  scorn 
of  her  mother,  but  of  the  idea  that  she  was  not 
quite  able  to  take  care  of  herself,  and  that  she 
could  be  led  into  wrong-doing. 

"  And  I  shall  be  obliged  to  say,"  continued 


io8  yesste's  Parrot. 

Mrs.  Howard,  "  that  I  do  not  think  it  best  for 
you  to  be  so  much  with  Hattie.  She  is  doing 
you  no  good.  I  cannot  keep  you  apart 
altogether,  but  you  must  not  ask  me  to  let 
you  have  her  here  so  often,  nor  can  I  allow 
you  to  go  to  her  house  as  much  as  you  have 
done.  When  I  see  you  have  a  more  gentle 
and  humble  spirit,  Gracie,  and  learning  to 
stand  by  another  strength  than  your  own,  I 
may  not  so  much  fear  evil  companionship  for 
you  ;  but  this  very  belief  that  you  cannot  fall 
makes  you  all  the  more  ready  to  do  so." 

Gracie  flounced  out  of  the  room  in  high  dis- 
pleasure, muttering  to  herself  as  she  went  up- 
stairs that  her  mother  always  thought  "  every 
one  better  than  me,"  and  "  it  was  very  unjust," 
and  "  just  as  if  I  could  fall  into  the  temptation 
of  telling  a  story." 

Mrs.  Howard  sighed,  and  looked  troubled, 
as  she  well  might ;  and  so  did  grandmamma,  as 
they  talked  together  on  this  subject,  and  con- 
sidered what  was  best  to  be  done  with  Gracie. 
Her  overwhelming  desire  for  admiration  ;  her 


Grandmamma  Howard.  109 

wish  to  be  first  in  every  thing ;  her  self-conceit 
and  impatience  of  reproof  were  day  by  day 
growing  stronger  and  stronger,  and  overrun- 
ning all  that  was  fair  and  lovely  in  her  character. 
It  was,  as  the  mother  had  said,  difficult  to 
break  off  all  intercourse  between  her  and 
Hattie,  although  it  was  certain  that  the  latter 
was  exercising  no  good  influence  on  Gracie  ; 
for  the  two  families  were  intimate,  and  it  was 
impossible,  without  giving  offence,  to  keep  the 
two  children  entirely  apart.  Moreover,  they 
were  schoolmates,  and  had  grown  really  fond 
of  one  another,  although  Gracie  was  losing 
confidence  in  Hattie,  as  she  could  not  but  per- 
ceive that  she  had  by  no  means  a  strict  regard 
for  truth. 

But  little  did  Gracie  dream  that  Hattie's  in- 
fluence or  example  could  ever  lead  her  astray 
in  this  way. 


VI. 


JEALOUSY. 


i|AYS  went  by,  and  all  was  progressing 
famously  for  the  fair ;  at  least  so 
thought  the  little  workers.  New  offers 
of  help  came  in ;  new  articles  were  promised, 
and  some  even  sent,  early  as  it  was,  and  these 
were  committed  to  Miss  Ashton's  keeping  until 
the  appointed  day  —  the  first  of  June  —  should 
arrive.  Mrs.  Bradford  promised  all  the  ice- 
cream that  should  be  needed  for  the  refresh 
ment  table  ;  Mrs.  Howard  the  strawberries  ; 
another  mamma  offered  jelly ;  two  or  three 
cake ;  Mr.  Powers  promised  a  quantity  of 
French   bonbons ;    and   from   all   sides   came 


Jealousy.  Ill 

offers  of  flowers.  Mr.  Stanton,  the  little 
Bradfords'  *'  Uncle  Ruthven,"  said  he  would 
furnish  flags  and  banners  enough  to  deck  the 
piazza;  and  mammas,  grandmammas,  aunts, 
and  cousins  were  coaxed  and  wheedled  out  of  so 
many  bright  ribbons  for  the  same  purpose,  that 
it  might  have  been  supposed  that  they  were 
expected  to  go  in  grave  colors  for  the  remain- 
der of  their  days. 

And  if  you  had  seen  the  doll  that  Miss 
Annie  Stanton  and  her  sister-in-law  were 
dressing  as  a  baby! 

If  you  had  but  seen  that  doll ! 

With  a  face  so  sweet,  and  so  like  a  "  real 
live  baby  "  that  it  almost  startled  one  to  come 
upon  it  unawares  in  some  place  where  the  real 
live  baby  could  not  have  been  found  !  such 
hands  and  feet !  and  oh,  such  a  fitting  out ! 
Day  by  day  the  progress  of  that  doll's  ward- 
robe was  watched  with  eager,  delighted  eyes 
by  Maggie,  Bessie,  Belle,  and  Lily,  who  had 
more  opportunities  for  this  than  the  rest  of  the 
children.     These  last  were,  however,  invited 


112  Jessie's  Parrot, 

in  every  now  and  then,  to  see  the  wonder  as  it 
grew ;  and  that  doll  became  the  great  object 
of  interest,  in  comparison  with  which  the  re- 
mainder of  the  fair  arrangements  were  as 
nothing.  Every  thing  that  was  dainty  and 
pretty  and  cunning  was  furnished  for  the  baby 
doll ;  not  only  clothes  without  number,  but  also 
a  tasteful  cradle  lined  and  trimmed  with  blue 
silk,  white  muslin,  and  lace  ;  and  a  baby  basket, 
furnished  completely  with  all  that  the  most  ex- 
acting infant  could  require.  In  short,  this  was 
plainly  to  be  the  grand  attraction  of  the  fair, 
at  least  in  the  eyes  of  the  younger  portion  of 
its  patrons,  for  the  fame  of  the  doll  spread  far 
and  wide,  and  great  was  the  curiosity  of  those 
who  had  never  had  the  opportunity  of  witness- 
ing its  beauties. 

And  the  question  arose  and  was  eagerly 
discussed,  who  was  to  be  the  munificent  pur- 
chaser ?  who,  oh  !  who,  the  fortunate  pos- 
sessor? Papas  and  mammas  were  besieged 
with  petitions  and  coaxings,  but  wisely  declined 
making  positive  promises  till  the  price  of  the 


jealousy,  I13 

wonderful  prize  should  be  fixed,  and  the  doll 
herself  put  up  for  sale.  Money-jugs  were 
broken,  and  "  savings  banks  "  emptied,  that  the 
contents  might  be  counted  over  and  over  to 
ascertain  if  there  was  any  possibility  that  they 
might  reach  the  sum  which  would  probably  be 
required;  allowances  were  saved  up  in  the 
same  hope. 

The  only  trouble  about  it  was,  that  as  Maggie 
Bradford  said,  "  only  one  could  have  the  doll, 
and  so  all  the  rest  were  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment, which  made  it  a  case  in  which  it  would 
be  well  if  one  man's  meat  were  every  other 
man's  poison." 

Jessie  and  her  grandfather  were  cared  for  in 
the  meanwhile.  Miss  Asliton  had  interested 
several  of  her  friends  in  them ;  the  children 
had  done  the  same  with  their  parents  ;  and  Mr. 
Bradford,  Mr.  Norris,  and  one  or  two  other 
gentlemen  had  been  to  see  old  Malcolm,  and 
finding  that  there  was  little  or  no  probability 
of  his  cure  while  he  remained  in  the  cold, 
damp  shanty,  where  he  had  been  living  for  the 
8 


114  yesste's  Parrot, 

last  few  months,  had  furnished  him  with  more 
comfortable  lodging. 

Jessie's  wares  were  also  finding  a  good 
market,  and  every  week  she  came  down  into 
the  city  with  a  number.  Some  of  these  she 
sold  to  such  purchasers  as  came  in  her  way, 
and  whatever  were  left  over  she  carried  to 
Miss  Ashton,  and  put  in  her  hands  for  the 
fair. 

She  was  also  making  some  particularly  choice 
articles  which  she  kept  back  for  exhibition  and 
sale  on  that  occasion  ;  and  among  them  were 
half  a  dozen  boxes  of  straw  and  bright-colored 
ribbons,  with  an  initial  letter  woven  in  beads 
upon  the  top  of  each.  There  had  been  but 
four  of  them  at  first,  bearing  respectively  an 
M,  a  B,  a  G,  and  a  D,  standing  for  Maggie, 
Bessie,  Gracie,  and  Dora;  for  Jessie  looked 
upon  these  as  her  first  friends,  because  they  had 
first  become  interested  in  her  story.  But  Bessie 
having  mentioned  that  Belle  and  Lily  were 
"  just  like  ourselves,  and  my  sister  and  I  would 
be  pleased  to  buy  boxes  for  them  at  the  fair," 


Jealousy,  115 

Jessie  completed  two  more  with  an  L  for  Lily, 
and  a  B  for  Belle.  There  was  a  delightful 
amount  of  mystery  respecting  these  boxes,  for 
each  one  of  the  six  knew  what  had  been  done 
for  the  other  five ;  Jessie  telling  her  in  con- 
fidence, and  leaving  her  with  the  suspicion  that 
the  same  pleasure  was  in  store  for  her.  Not 
on  any  account  would  any  one  of  them  have 
spoken  of  this  suspicion  ;  oh  dear,  no  !  but  was 
quite  prepared  to  be  very  much  surprised  if  a 
box  bearing  her  initial  should  turn  up  at  the 
fair. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  owned  a  pretty  little  pony, 
the  gift  of  their  Uncle  Ruthven ;  at  least  Fred 
said  it  was  ''  Uncle  Buthven's  present,"  but 
Mr.  Stanton  said  it  was  Fred's.  For,  having 
offered  Fred  the  choice  of  a  present  for  himself 
as  a  reward  for  the  pains  he  had  taken  to  break 
himself  of  some  troublesome  faults,  the  gener- 
ous brother  asked  for  a  pony  for  his  little  sis- 
ters. He  and  his  brother  Harry  each  owned 
one,  and  he  wished  Maggie  and  Bessie  to  enjoy 
the  same  pleasure.      So  Uncle  Ruthven  had 


Ii6  yesste's  Parrot, 

bought  the  pony  and  equipped  him,  but  he  de- 
clared it  was  Fred's  gift  to  the  little  girls,  and 
I  think  he  was  about  right. 

However  that  was,  the  pony  had  given  no 
small  amount  of  pleasure,  and  this  was  still 
farther  increased  when  Belle's  papa  gave  her 
one. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  two  of  the  little 
girls  on  these  ponies,  escorted  by  Harry  and 
Fred,  and  the  whole  party  under  the  care  of 
one  of  the  papas,  or  Uncle  Ruthven,  or  some- 
times of  old  James,  the  coachman.  Belle  and 
Bessie  rode  as  yet  with  a  leading  string  to  the 
pony's  rein,  but  Maggie  had  grown  to  be  a  fear- 
less little  rider,  and  had  no  idea  of  being  led. 
Lily  would  have  been  welcome  to  a  ride  now 
and  then  if  she  had  chosen,  but  "the  one 
thing  in  the  world"  which  Lily  feared  was  a 
horse,  and  she  declined  the  most  pressing  offers 
of  this  nature. 

Now  that  the  days  were  becoming  so  mild 
and  pleasant,  these  rides  took  place  quite  fre- 
quently, and  they  were  hardly  looked  forward 


yealousy^  117 

to  more  eagerly  by  the  children  than  they  were 
by  old  Malcolm  and  Jessie,  who  delighted  to 
see  the  little  girls  on  horseback,  and  were 
always  on  the  watch  to  meet  them  and  receive 
a  kind  word. 

"  I  know  who  I  think  will  have  the  best  piece 
of  work,"  said  Lily,  one  day  after  school,  when 
the  little  girls  were  discussing  the  arrangements 
for  the  fair  as  they  prepared  to  go  home. 

"  Who  ?  "  asked  Gracie  quickly.  "  Maggie, 
I  s'pose.  You  always  think  Maggie  and  Bessie 
do  every  thing  better  than  anybody  else." 

"  Well,  and  so  they  do,"  answered  Lily,  un- 
willing to  allow  that  her  favorite  playmates 
could  be  outdone  in  any  thing  by  another,  — 
"  so  they  do ;  but  it's  not  Maggie  this  time." 

"  Who  then  ?  "  asked  Dora.  j 

"  Nellie  Ransom,"  said  Lily.  "  Have  you 
seen  her  mat?  " 

No :  none  of  the  others  had  seen  Nellie's 
mat ;  but  now  curiosity  was  all  on  tiptoe,  and  a 
general  desire  to  see  her  work  took  possession 
of  the  class. 


Il8  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

"  Bring  all  jour  works  to-raorrow,  and  let's 
see  which  is  the  best,"  said  Lily. 

"  Grade's  is,  I  know,"  said  Hattie. 

"  If  you  have  not  seen  the  others  you  dorCt 
know,"  said  Lily. 

Hattie  whispered  something  to  Gracie  and 
laughed ;  but  Gracie  still  wore  the  displeased 
look  she  had  put  on  when  Lily  declared  Nellie's 
work  must  be  the  best. 

For,  during  the  whole  of  the  last  year,  Gracie 
had  been  nourisliing  an  intense  and  bitter  jeal- 
ousy of  Nellie  Ransom.  As  lias  been  said 
before,  Nellie  was  by  no  means  as  quick  and 
brilliant  a  child  as  Gracie,  but  she  was  more 
persevering  and  industrious,  and  so  made  up 
for  the  lack  of  natural  talent.  She  was  the 
only  child  in  the  school  who  could  keep  up  with 
Gracie  in  several  studies,  such  as  composition 
and  arithmetic ;  and  in  ajl  they  learned  these 
two  generally  stood  in  advance  of  the  rest. 

And  to  outstrip  Nellie,  to  be  always  the 
fir^t^  the  very  first  was  Gracie's  great  ambition. 
She  believed  herself  to  be  by  far  the  wiser  and 


Jealousy,  119 

cleverer  of  tlie  two,  but  she  was  anxious  that 
every  one  else  should  acknowledge  it  also. 

A  year  ago,  when  Miss  Ash  ton's  uncle  had 
offered  a  prize  for  the  best  composition,  —  the 
occasion  to  which  Mrs.  Howard  had  referred 
when  warning  her  little  daughter  against  jeal- 
ousy of  Maggie  Bradford, — the  chances  had 
seemed  to  lie  between  Maggie  and  herself ;  but 
to  the  astonishment  of  every  one,  Nellie's  com- 
position had  proved  the  most  deserving,  and 
taken  the  much-coveted  prize. 

Since  that  time  Grade's  wish  to  excel  Nellie 
in  all  things  had  known  no  bounds,  and  it  is 
really  to  be  feared  that  she  was  rejoiced  at 
heart  when  her  painstaking  and  industrious 
little  schoolmate  missed  in  her  lessons,  or 
failed  in  any  work  she  undertook. 

So  now  the  fear  that  Nellie's  mat  should 
prove  to  be  more  neatly  worked  than  her  own 
took  complete  possession  of  her,  for  it  was 
not  only  the  desire  to  be  first,  but  the  desire  to 
outstrip  Nellie  especially,  that  filled  her  heart 
and  niade  her  envious  and  jealous. 


I20  yessie's  Parrot, 

It  was  agreed  that  Nellie,  Gracie,  and  Dora 
should  each  bring  her  mat  to  school  the  next 
morning,  so  as  to  compare  their  work  and  see 
which  was  likely  to  bring  the  highest  price. 

Accordingly  this  was  done,  and  the  children 
all  gathered  early,  anxious  to  decide  on  the 
respective  merits  of  the  three  pieces  of  em- 
broidery. 

All  were  well  done,  neatly  and  evenly 
worked ;  but  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  it, 
even  to  Gracie' s  unwilling  eyes,  —  Nellie  Ran- 
som's was  somewhat  the  best.  It  was  really 
astonishing  for  a  child  of  her  age.  She  was 
naturally  handy  with  her  needle,  and  had 
taken  so  much  pains  with  this  mat  that  it 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  much  older  person. 
The  simple  pattern  was  straight  and  even,  and 
the  stitches  of  the  filling  in  lay  in  neat,  regu- 
lar rows,  the  worsted  smooth  and  unfrayed, 
and  not  a  speck  or  spot  of  any  description  to 
be  seen  upon  the  whole  piece. 

Grade's  was  very  nearly  a  match  for  it; 
indeed,  had  the  two  pieces  been  looked  at 


Jealousy,  1 21 

separately  it  might  have  seemed  that  there  was 
nothing  to  choose  between  them  ;  but  laid  side 
by  side  and  closely  compared,  Nellie's  would 
certainly  bear  off  the  palm. 

"  Why,  Nellie,"  said  Dora,  whose  own  work 
was  by  no  means  despicable,  "  how  beautifully 
you  have  done  it.  I  don't  believe  a  grown-up 
lady  could  have  worked  it  better.  I  know 
Mrs.  Howard  will  say  it's  the  best." 

Quiet  Nellie  colored  and  dimpled  with  pleas- 
ure. Praise  was  pleasant  to  her,  as  it  is  to 
all ;  but,  although  she  would  have  been  glad  to 
have  her  work  pronounced  the  best,  it  was 
with  no  overwhelming  desire  to  outdo  her  com- 
panions. Nellie  did  her  very  best,  but  when 
another  did  better,  she  could  be  content  with 
the  feeling  that  it  was  not  her  own  fault 
that  she  was  excelled,  and  was  ready  to 
sympathize  with  her  more  fortunate  class- 
mate. 

"  That  will  be  priced  ten  dollars  for  certain 
and  positive,"  said  Lily,  holding  up  the  mat 
and  regarding  it  with  admiration.      "It  is 


122  "Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

lovely,  Nellie.  They  are  all  very  nice,  'spe- 
cially Grade's,  but  yours  is  the  best." 

''It's  not  a  bit  better  than  Grade's,"  said 
Hattie. 

"  Don't  you  encourage  Grade  more  than  she 
deserves,"  said  Lily  admonishingly.  "  She's 
pretty  nice,  but  don't  you  puff  her  up  too  much." 

"  I  know  something  about  you,"  said  Hattie 
teasingly. 

"  Well,  know  away,"  answered  Lily  scorn- 
fully. "You're  always  knowing  something 
about  somebody ;  and  you  want  me  to  ask  you 
what  you  know  about  me ;  but  I  don't  want 
to  know,  and  I'm  not  going  to  have  you 
say  some  of  the  girls  said  hateful  things  of  me. 
Besides  —  oh  !  I  forgot ;  I  b'lieve  I  was  rather 
anti-politing ;^^  and  Lily,  who  was  about  to  say 
that  Hattie  always  made  things  seem  worse 
than  they  were,  put  a  check  upon  her  saucy 
little  tongue  and  turned  once  more  to  Nellie. 

One  might  have  thought  that  Lily  had 
worked  the  mat  herself  to  see  her  pride  and 
satisfaction  in  it. 


Jealousy,  123 

- "  Dora  has  done  more  on  hers  than  Nellie 
and  Grade,"  said  Belle.  "  Their  two  are 
pretty  nearly  the  same.  Let's  see ;  Gracie 
has  only  two  more  rows  done  than  Nellie  ;  no, 
Nellie  has  two  more  done  than  Gracie  —  oh  !  — 
why  —  this  is  Gracie's,  isn't  it  ?  I  can  hardly 
tell  them  apart,  they  are  both  so  very  nice." 

For,  handing  the  mats  about  from  one  to 
another,  the  same  mistake  occurred  more  than 
once,  Gracie's  being  taken  for  Nellie's  or  Nel- 
lie's for  Gracie's,  and  they  had  to  be  held  side 
by  side  before  they  could  be  distinguished. 
The  children  laughed  and  thought  this  rather 
funny ;  and  it  gave  Gracie  some  hope  tliat  hers 
might  be  judged  to  be  the  best,  after  all.  She 
would  take  more  pains  than  ever. 

The  thought  of  the  mats  and  of  outdoing 
Nellie  was  so  busy  with  her  that  she  did  not 
give  her  usual  attention  to  her  lessons  that 
morning ;  and,  as  the  consequence,  lost  her 
place  in  the  spelling-class,  and  was  in  a  peev- 
ish humor  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

Fresh  cause  of  displeasure  befell  her  at  the 


124  yessie^s  Parrot. 

close  of  school,  when  Miss  Ashton  said  she 
thought  it  as  well  that  the  May  Queen  should 
he  chosen  soon. 

"  Oh !  we  want  Maggie,  of  course,"  said 
Lily. 

"Maggie  again  ?''  said  Miss  Ashton,  smil- 
ing. 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Belle.  "  Maggie  is  used  to  it, 
and  she  makes  the  prettiest  queen,  so  we'd 
rather  have  her  ;  wouldn't  we,  girls  ?  " 

There  was  a  general  murmur  of  assent,  save 
from  two  voices. 

"  Why  don't  we  make  some  one  else  May 
Queen  this  year  ?  "  asked  Hattie.  "  We  might 
have  Gracie." 

"  Hattie,"  said  Lily,  endeavoring  to  make  her 
voice  of  reproof  one  of  extreme  mildness,  "  as 
you  have  not  been  so  very  long  in  the  school,  it 
would  be  better  if  you  let  the  old  inhabitants 
be  the  judges." 

"Well,  anyhow,  I  don't  see  why  Maggie 
always  has  to  be  May  Queen,  and  when  she  don't 
go  to  the  school  either,"  said  Gracie  pouting, 


Jealousy,  125 

and  leaning  back  against  her  desk  with  a  dis- 
contented air,  till,  catching  Miss  Ashton's  eye 
fixed  sadly  and  reproachfully  upon  her,  she 
hung  her  head  and  looked  ashamed. 

"  Be-cause,"  said  Lily  with  emphasis,  "  she 's 
the  prettiest  child  of  our  acquaintance.  Not 
all  the  prettiness  of  all  the  rest  of  us  make 
up  one-half  Maggie's  prettiness,  and  she's  not 
one  bit  vain  or  stuck-up  about  it  either ;  and  if 
she  and  Bessie  don't  just  belong  to  the  school, 
they  belong  to  us,  and  so  it's  just  the  same. 
Whoever  wants  Maggie,  hold  up  their  hand." 

Up  went  every  hand  at  once,  save  those  of 
Gracie  and  Hattie,  and  presently  Grade's  fol- 
lowed the  example  of  the  others,  though  half 
unwillingly. 

"  Now,"  said  Lily  triumphantly,  "  that's 
voted,  and  for  ever  after  let  him  hold  his  peace." 

The  last  allusion  was  perhaps  not  exactly 
clear  either  to  Lily  or  her  hearers  ;  but  it  was 
thought  extremely  fine,  and  as  having  clinched 
the  matter  without  farther  argument.  Miss 
Ashton  laughed,  and  asked  if  Lily  and  Belle 


126  yessz'e's  Parrot. 

would  undertake  to  let  Maggie  know  that  she 
was  elected  May  Queen,  which  they  readily 
promised  to  do. 

But  the  next  morning  these  two  little  friends 
returned  to  school,  and  told  their  astonished 
and  disappointed  classmates  that  Maggie  posi- 
tively refused  to  be  May  Queen.  Why  they 
could  not  say,  but  all  their  persuasions  had 
proved  of  no  avail.  Maggie  was  not  to  be 
"  coaxed,"  and  would  give  no  reason  for  her 
refusal,  though  she  had  "  seemed  to  feel  awfully 
about  it,"  Lily  said,  and  had  "  cried  about  it " 
before  they  left.  Bessie  had  been  as  much 
mystified  as  they  were,  and  even  Maggie's 
mamma,  when  appealed  to,  said  that  she  knew 
of  no  reason  why  Maggie  should  decline  the 
offered  honor.  Maggie,  however,  had  said  she 
would  "  tell  mamma  and  Bessie,"  but  she  could 
tell  no  one  else. 

Miss  Ashton,  when  informed  of  Maggie's  re- 
fusal, said  that  she  would  call  on  her  and  see 
what  could  be  done,  and  until  then  the  matter 
might  rest. 


Jealousy,  127 

"*  Hattie,"  said  Gracie,  drawing  her  "  inti- 
mate friend  "  into  a  corner  during  recess,  "  did 
you  tell  Maggie  Bradford  what  I  said  about  lier 
being  Queen  twice  ?  " 

"  Well —  no,"  said  Hattie,  hesitating  at  first, 
but  then  uttering  her  denial  boldly  as  she  saw 
the  frown  gathering  upon  Grade's  brow. 

Gracie  looked  at  her  as  if  she  only  half  be- 
lieved her,  for  she  was  learning  to  doubt  Hat- 
tie's  word,  and  although  she  was  greedy  of 
her  flattery,  she  could  not  help  feeling  that  her 
chosen  friend  was  not  sincere. 

"  You  know  you've  told  a  good  many  things 
I  did  not  mean  you  to,"  said  Gracie,  "  and  I 
wouldn't  like  not  to  be  friends  with  Maggie,  or 
to  let  her  think  I'm  hateful." 

And  Hattie  declared  over  and  over  again 
tha,t  she  had  never  said  one  word  to  Maggie  on 
the  subject. 

"  I  do  feel  badly  about  it,"  said  Gracie  re- 
morsefully. "  I  wish  I  had  never  said  I  thought 
Maggie  ought  not  to  be  May  Queen.  Maggie's 
been  my  friend  this  ever  so  long,  since  I  was 


128  yesste's  Parrot. 

quite  little  ;  and  I  believe  I  had  rather  the  girls 
chose  her.  I've  a  good  mind  to  write  her  a 
note,  and  tell  her  I  wish  she  would  be  Queen." 

All  the  other  children  had  left  the  school- 
room to  go  down  and  play  on  the  piazza,  and 
Gracie  and  Hattie  were  alone  together. 

"  I  wouldn't,"  said  Hattie  ; "  you  are  the  one 
who  ought  to  be  May  Queen,  'cause  you  are  the 
smartest  child  in  the  school." 

Gracie  believed  this,  and  thought  Hattie  gave 
her  no  more  than  her  due  ;  still,  although  she 
liked  to  hear  Hattie  say  it,  the  compliment  did 
not  turn  her  from  her  purpose. 


YIL 


A  MISFORTUNE. 


S  the  two  children  talked,  Gracie  had 
been  putting  a  few  stitches  in  her 
mat. 

"I  b'lieve  I'll  do  it,'*  she  said.  "I'll  tell 
Maggie  we  all  want  her  to  be  May  Queen." 

"  Then  she'll  know  you've  said  something 
about  it,"  said  Hattie  anxiously,  feeling  that 
this  proceeding  was  likely  to  bring  her  into 
trouble. 

"  No,  she  needn't,"  said  Gracie ;  "  perhaps 
she  does  think  I  don't  want  her  to  be,  'cause 
at  Christmas  she  knew  I  was  mad  about  it." 

"  Are  jca  going  to  beg  her  pardon  ? "  asked 
Hattie. 


130  Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

"No,"  said  Grade,  with  one  of  her  scornful 
tosses  of  her  head.  "  1  think  I  see  myself  doing 
such  a  thing !  But  I  can  write  her  a  little  note, 
and  tell  her  we  are  all  sorry  because  she  won't 
be  May  Queen,  and  beg  her  to  change  her  mind. 
I  might  do  as  much  as  that  for  Maggie,"  she 
added  to  herself. 

Hattie  tried  to  dissuade  her  no  longer,  and 
Gracie  laid  the  mat  down  upon  her  desk, 
opened  the  lid,  and  took  out  a  slip  of  paper  and 
a  pen.  She  dipped  the  pen  in  the  ink,  wrote, 
"  My  dear  Maggie,"  at  the  top  of  the  sheet, 
and  then  paused,  biting  the  top  of  her  pen. 

"  I  can't  think  what  to  say,  or  how  to  begin 
it,"  she  said.  "  My  dear  Maggie,  I  am  very 
sorry — no.  I  had  better  say  we  —  we  are 
very  sorry  that  you  —  that  you — oh,  pshaw! 
I've  a  great  mind  not  to  do  it"  —  here  she 
dipped  her  pen  in  the  ink  again,  and  so  care- 
lessly that  it  came  forth  quite  too  full.  "  Oh, 
bother ! "  she  excl^med  with  increasing  ill- 
humor;  "look  at  this  hateful  pen  ;  "  and,  for- 
getting the  precious  piece  of  work  which  lay  so 


A  Misfortune,  131 

near  at  hand,  she  gave  a  careless  fillip  to  the 
pen  which  spattered  forth  the  ink. 

Gracie  gave  another  impatient  exclamation, 
and  pushed  away  the  paper,  saying,  — 

"  I  shan't  do  it ;  if  Maggie  likes  to  be  so 
foolish  about  nothing,  she  just  can  ;  "  but  she 
did  not  see  the  extent  of  the  mischief  she  had 
done  till  Hattie  said  in  a  tone  of  great  dis- 
may, — 

"0  Gracie!    just  see  what  you've  done!" 

And  there  upon  her  beautiful  mat  was  a 
great  spot  of  ink. 

Gracie  gave  a  horrified  little  cry,  and,  snatch- 
ing up  the  mat,  thoughtlessly  sopped  up  the 
spot  with  her  handkerchief,  thereby  spreading 
and  smearing  it  till  it  grew  to  the  size  of  a 
two-cent  piece,  and  left  an  ugly  blotch  on  the 
bright  blue  worsted. 

"  What  shall  1  do  ?  oh  !  what  shall  I  do  ? 
It's  spoiled  ;  it's  quite  spoiled !  "  she  said  des- 
pairingly. 

''  I  don't  believe  it  is  ;  maybe  it  can  be  taken 
out,"  said  Hattie,  though  she  was  almost  as 


132  Jessie's  Parrot, 

much  startled  as  her  little  companion.  "  I'll 
bring  some  water,  and  we'll  try  to  take  it 
out." 

"  No,  no,''  said  Gracie  ;  "  I  wish  I  had  not 
touched  it  at  all.  We'll  only  make  it  worse  ; 
and  I'll  ask  mamma  to  try  as  soon  as  I  go 
home.  Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear !  what  shall  I  do  ? 
Grandmamma  will  surely  say  Nellie's  is  the 
best  now.     That  hateful  girl !  " 

"  It's  a  great  shame  if  she  does,"  said  Hat- 
tie.  "  Nellie  is  always  trying  to  get  ahead  of 
you ;  and  she  don't  deserve  it,  and  I  don't 
think  your  grandmamma  is  fair  to  you.  She 
ought  to  think  her  own  grandchild's  work  is 
the  best." 

"  I  suppose  Nellie  will  just  be  glad  when  she 
sees  what  has  happened  to  me,"  said  Gracie, 
whose  jealous  eyes  could  now  see  nothing  that 
was  good  or  fair  in  Nellie's  conduct. 

Innocent,  kind-hearted  Nellie,  who  would  not 
willingly  harbor  an  unkind  or  unjust  thought 
of  another ! 

"  I  shan't  let  her  see  it,"   she  continued, 


A  Misfortune,  133 

hastily  rolling  up  the  mat  and  putting  it  into 
her  desk,  as  she  heard  the  other  children  com- 
ing. "  Don't  say  a  word  about  it,  Hattie,  not  to 
any  one." 

Hattie  promised,  really  grieving  herself  for 
Grade's  misfortune,  for  she  truly  loved  her, 
and  was  anxious  that  she  should  be  the  first. 

This  was  to  be  a  black  day  for  Gracie  ;  but 
all  through  her  own  jealousy  and  pride. 

Her  mind  was  so  taken  up  with  the  remem- 
brance of  the  defaced  mat  that  she  could  not 
keep  her  thoughts  upon  her  lessons ;  and, 
although  she  had  known  her  history  very  well, 
her  attention  wandered  so  much  that  she 
answered  incorrectly  more  than  once. 

Seeing,  however,  that  something  had  dis- 
turbed her.  Miss  Ashton  made  allowances,  and 
gave  her  one  or  two  opportunities  to  correct 
herself  and  bring  her  thoughts  back  to  the 
task  before  her. 

But  it  was  all  in  vain  ;  Gracie  had  already  lost 
her  place  in  the  spelling-class,  and  gone  down 
below   Dora  Johnson   and  Laura  Middleton ; 


134  yessie's  Parrot. 

and  now  the  fear  of  a  fresh  mortification,  and  of 
giving  Nellie  her  place  at  the  head  of  the  his- 
tory class  added  to  her  confusion,  and  she 
floundered  more  and  more  hopelessly.  Nellie 
begged  too  that  she  might  have  still  another 
chance,  when  at  last  Miss  Ashton  passed  the 
question  to  her  ;  but  again  Gracie  failed  and 
was  obliged  to  yield  her  place. 

Angry,  mortified,  and  jealous,  Gracie  showed 
such  determined  ill-temper  towards  her  gen- 
erous little  classmate,  that  Miss  Ashton  was 
obliged  to  reprove  her,  but  without  effect. 

Again  she  called  Gracie  to  order,  and  this 
time  more  severely. 

The  angry  and  wilful  child  hesitated  for 
one  moment,  then  pride  and  passion  burst  all 
bounds,  and  she  answered  Miss  Ashton  with 
such  insolence,  such  ungoverned  and  unjusti- 
fiable impertinence  that  the  whole  class  stood 
aghast. 

There  was  a  moment's  perfect  stillness. 
Miss  Ashton  turned  very  pale,  and  laying  her 
book  down  upoft  the  table,  covered  her   face 


A  Misfortune,  135 

with  her  hand,  while  the  children  looked  from 
her  to  Gracie  and  back  again,  in  utter  dismay 
and  astonishment. 

Then  the  stillness  was  broken  by  a  piteous, 
"  Oh,  dear !  "  from  poor  little  Belle,  who  fin- 
ished with  a  burst  of  tears,  and  her  example 
was  followed  by  more  than  one  of  the  others. 

Miss  Ashton  raised  her  head. 

"  Go  into  the  cloak-room,  Grace,"  she  said 
quietly. 

Gracie  was  herself  frightened  at  what  she  had 
done  ;  but  her  pride  and  temper  were  still  far- 
ther roused  by  the  shocked  and  disapproving 
looks  of  her  schoolmates,  and  she  stood  for  an 
instant  with  determined  stubbornness,  while 
the  words,  "  I  won't,"  formed  themselves  upon 
her  lips. 

But  they  were  not  uttered,  for  there  was 
something  in  Miss  Ashton's  face  which  checked 
her ;  something  which  not  one  of  the  little  flock 
had  ever  seen  before ;  and  when  the  lady 
repeated  her  words  in  the  same  calm  tone, — 

"  Go  intc  the  cloak-room,"  Gracie  turned 
away  and  obeyed. 


136  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

It  was  with  head  held  high,  and  scornful 
look,  however,  that  she  passed  out,  although 
bitter  shame  and  regret  were  burning  in  the 
poor,  foolish  little  heart.  But  she  called  up  all 
her  pride  and  jealousy  to  stifle  the  better  feeling 
which  urged  her  to  run  to  her  teacher,  and,  in 
the  face  of  the  whole  school,  confess  her  fault, 
and  beg  Miss  Ashton's  pardon  for  the  insulting 
words  she  had  spoken. 

"  What  will  she  do,  I  wonder,"  she  said  to 
herself  ;  "  will  she  tell  mamma  ?  What  will 
mamma  say,  and  papa  too  ?  "  and,  as  the  re- 
collection of  her  parents'  oft-repeated  warnings 
against  the  pride  and  vanity  which  were  her  be- 
setting sins  came  back  to  her  mind,  she  could 
not  but  feel  that  this  was  the  consequence  of 
allowing  them  to  gain  such  a  hold  upon  her. 

She/eZi  it,  for  conscience  would  make  itself 
heard  ;  but  she  would  not  acknowledge  it  even 
to  herself,  and  drowned  the  reproving  whisper 
with  such  thoughts  as,  — 

"  Well,  then,  why  is  Miss  Ashton  so  unjust  ? 
She  is  always  trying  to  make   me  miss  and 


A  Misfortune,  137 

lose  my  place.  She  is  always  glad  when  any 
one  goes  above  me.  She  never  praises  me  as 
much  as  I  deserve  ;  "  and  such  unjust  and  un- 
true accusations. 

It  might  be  that  Miss  Ashton  did  not  always 
bestow  upon  Gracie  all  the  praise  she  would  have 
given  to  another  for  a  perfect  lesson  or  good 
composition,  for  she  did  not  think  much  praise 
good  for  her,  as  it  only  seemed  to  minister  to 
Grade's  over-weening  vanity.  But  only  eyes 
that  were  wilfully  blind  and  suspicious  could 
find  the  slightest  injustice  or  unkindness  in  her 
treatment  of  any  one  of  her  little  scholars,  and 
her  gentleness  and  patience  might  have  won 
gratitude  from  the  most  stubborn  young  heart. 

But  Gracie  would  not  listen  to  the  prompt- 
ings of  her  better  spirit ;  and  the  recollection 
of  the  dismayed  and  averted  looks  of  her 
schoolmates  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  her 
angry  pride.  Even  the  ever  admiring  Hattie 
had  looked  shocked  at  her  outburst. 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  said  again  to  herself. 
"  It's  only  'cause  they  know  I  am  so  much 


138  Jessie's  Parrot, 

cleverer  than  any  of  them,  and  they  are  jeal- 
ous of  me.  That  hateful  Nellie  !  She  was  so 
proud  to  go  above  me." 

Wretched  and  unhappy,  she  spent  the  time 
in  her  solitude  till  the  close  of  school,  when 
the  other  children  came  into  the  cloak-room 
for  their  hats. 

No  one  said  a  word  to  her,  for  they  had  been 
forbidden  to  do  so  ;  and  if  they  had  occasion  to 
speak  to  one  another  they  did  so  in  whispers, 
as  if  something  terrible  had  happened,  and  a 
great  awe  had  fallen  upon  them.  She  sat  in  a 
corner,  sullen  and  defiant,  trying  to  put  on  an 
appearance  of  the  utmost  indifference,  but  suc- 
ceeding very  poorly.  She  even  tried  to  hum 
a  tune,  but  something  rose  in  her  throat  and 
choked  her.  She  scarcely  knew  what  to  do ; 
whether  or  no  to  rise,  and  take  her  hat,  and  go 
down  as  usual  to  find  the  nurse,  who  was  prob- 
ably waiting  for  her  below  ;  and  while  she  sat 
hesitating,  one  and  another  of  her  young  com- 
panions passed  out,  as  if  glad  to  hurry  from 
her  presence,  and  she  was  left  once  more  alone. 


A  Misfortune,  139 

She  had  just  taken  down  her  hat,  when  Miss 
Ashton  came  in,  and,  handing  her  a  note,  said 
gravely,  — 

"  Give  this  to  your  mother,  Gracie,"  and 
left  her  again. 

Ashamed  and  alarmed  at  the  thought  of 
what  might  follow  when  she  should  reach 
home,  but  with  her  pride  and  anger  not  one 
whit  abated,  Gracie  went  slowly  on,  giving 
short  and  snappish  answers  to  the  inquiries  of 
her  nurse,  who  plainly  saw  that  something  was 
wrong. 

But  she  dared  not  face  her  mother  when  she 
should  hear  of  her  misconduct ;  and  when  they 
entered  the  house,  she  thrust  the  note  into  the 
hand  of  the  maid,  bidding  her  give  it  to  Mrs. 
Howard,  and  ran  quickly  up  to  her  own  little 
room. 

There  she  stayed,  wondering  and  waiting. 
Five,  ten,  fifteen,  twenty  minutes,  half  an  hour 
passed  away,  and  still  her  mamma  did  not 
come. 

Was  it  possible  ?  could  she  really  hope  that 


140  Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

the  note  had  not  been  one  of  complaint  of  her 
conduct  ? 

No,  that  could  never  be  ;  there  was  the  bell 
for  the  children's  early  dinner.  Well,  she 
would  go  down  and  act  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  But  could  she  with  this  uncertainty 
of  how  much  or  how  little  mamma  knew  ? 

But  there  was  mamma's  step,  and  now  Mrs. 
Howard  entered  the  room.  One  half  glance 
at  her  face  and  Grade's  eyes  fell.  It  was 
enough  to  show  her  that  her  mother  knew  all. 

"  Mean  old  thing  !  "  she  said  to  herself, 
meaning  Miss  Ashton.  '-'•  She's  gone  and  told, 
and  now  I  s'pose  I'll  be  punished." 

"  Gracie,"  said  her  mother,  ''  I  suppose  you 
scarcely  need  to  be  told  what  is  in  this  note 
which  Miss  Ashton  has  sent  me." 

Gracie  stood  with  head  erect,  pouting  lip, 
and  defiant  eyes,  idly  tossing  back  and  forth 
the  tassel  of  the  window  curtain  with  as  much 
indifference  as  she  could  assume. 

"  Has  it  come  to  this,  my  child,"  continued 
Mrs.   Howard   sorrowfully,    "  that  you  have 


A  Misfo7'tune,  14 1 

allowed  conceit  and  self-will  to  gain  such  a 
hold  upon  you,  that  you  could  wilfully  and 
deliberately  insult  your  teacher  ?  I  have  been 
sure  that  you  would  fall  into  trouble,  Gracie, 
for  I  knew  that  such  foolish  pride  must  sooner 
or  later  have  a  fall,  but  I  could  not  have 
believed  that  you  would  be  guilty  of  this. 
"What  did  you  say  to  Miss  Ashton  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Gracie  passionately, 
without  directly  answering  her  mother's  ques- 
tion. "  It  was  all  true,  every  word  of  it.  She's 
as  hateful  as  she  can  be,  and  unjust  and 
mean ;  "  and  Gracie  went  on,  pouring  forth  a 
torrent  of  invective  and  reproach  against  Miss 
Ashton  and  Nellie  Ransom,  without  paying  the 
slightest  heed  to  her  mother's  commands  to  be 
silent.  It  was  the  long  pent-up  feeling  of 
jealousy  and  ill-will  and  pride,  that  she  had 
been  nourishing  for  months  past,  and  which 
now  burvst  all  bounds  and  swept  every  thing 
before  it. 

Respect,  and  even  obedience  towards  her 
mother,  reason,  justice,  and  truth  itself  were 


142  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

totally  lost  sight  of,  as  she  poured  forth  accu- 
sation after  accusation  against  the  offenders, 
and  upheld  her  own  conduct  in  all  she  had  done 
and  said. 

"  And  you  have  said  all  this  to  Miss  Ashton, 
perhaps  ?  "  said  her  mother  sternly,  when  the 
angry  child  at  last  came  to  a  pause. 

"  It  is  true  enough  if  I  did,"  muttered  Gracie 
again,  though  her  passion  was  by  this  time  he- 
ginning  to  cool  down  in  a  measure.  "  I'm 
sure  I  wish  I  never  went  to  her  hateful  old 
school." 

"  It  is  more  than  probable  that  Miss  Ashton 
wishes  so  now ;  but  I  shall  leave  you  to 
think  over  what  you  have  said  to  me  and  to 
Miss  Ashton,  and  to  find  out  how  much  of  it 
is  true.  One  thing  Miss  Ashton  desires,  —  that 
you  do  not  return  to  her  school  till  you  are 
ready  to  acknowledge  your  fault,  and  to  apolo- 
gize for  your  impertinence.  And  until  this 
is  the  case,  you  must  remain  in  your  room. 
Your  meals  will  be  sent  to  you,  and  I  shall  not 
allow  your  brothers  and  sisters  to  have  any  in- 


A  Misfortune.  143 

tercourse  with  you  till  you  are  ready  to  make 
such  amends  as  you  can.  You  may  send  for 
me  when  you  have  any  thing  to  say  to  me.  Oh, 
Gracie,  Gracie !  " 

With  which  words,  spoken  in  a  sad,  despond- 
ent tone,  Mrs.  Howard  went  away,  closing 
the  door  upon  her  stubborn,  rebellious  little 
daughter. 

Gracie  stood  where  her  mother  had  left  her, 
not  one  whit  softened  or  humbled  ;  for  now  her 
angry  pride  began  to  accuse  her  mother  also  of 
injustice  and  partiality  and  unkindness. 

"  Everybody  in  the  world  takes  part  against 
me,"  she  said  to  herself ;  "  but  I  don't  care. 
Indeed,  I  won't  beg  Miss  Ashton's  pardon,  not 
if  I  stay  here  a  year.  Mamma  makes  such  a 
fuss  about  her  being  so  kind  and  patient  and 
all  that.  She's  paid  for  teaching  me,  so  it's 
nothing  so  wonderfully  good.  I  hope  I  never 
will  go  back  to  the  school  where  that  hateful 
Nellie  is." 

Soon  the  door  opened,  and  the  nurse  ap- 
peared, bearing  a  tray  on  which  was  Grade's 


144  yessie^s  Parrot, 

dinner.  She  set  it  upon  a  table,  placed  a  chair, 
and  went  away  without  a  word  to  her. 

"  I  don't  care,"  said  Gracie  once  more,  "  no 
one  need  talk  to  me  if  they  don't  want  to. 
I'm  just  as  good  as  they  are,  and  I'd  just  as 
lief  stay  here  by  myself." 

She  sat  down  before  the  dinner-tray,  trying 
to  believe  that  she  would  "just  as  lief  eat 
her  dinner  alone  ;  "  but  she  found  it  was  not  so 
agreeable  after  all.  She  wondered  what  they 
were  doing  downstairs ;  if  the  children  were 
chattering  as  merrily  as  usual,  or  if  her  absence 
made  any  difference  in  the  family  enjoyment. 
She  had  little  appetite,  as  may  be  supposed, 
and  left  the  nicely  served  meal  scarcely 
touched. 

But  it  must  not  be  thought  that  she  had  any 
idea  of  yielding  or  acknowledging  herself  in 
the  wrong.  By  and  by  she  heard  her  brothers 
and  sisters  coming  upstairs,  then  their  voices 
in  the  nursery  as  they  prattled  to  one  another  ; 
and  she  knew  that  they  were  being  made  ready 
for  their  afternoon  airing.     Then  tiny  feet  pat- 


A  Misfortune.  145 

tered  along  the  hall,  and  little  May's  voice 
Rounded  through  her  closed  door, — 

"  Am  00  dood  now,  Dacie  ?  We'm  doin  out, 
Dacie ;  am  00  most  dood  ?  Pease  don't  be 
naughty  dirl,  Dacie,"  and  the  soft  little  hand 
tapped  upon  the  panel  as  the  baby  voice  pleaded. 

''  Come  away,  darling.  Gracie  may  come 
out  when  she  is  good  and  says  she  is  sorry," 
said  mamma's  voice  ;  and  Gracie  knew  that  her 
mother  had  led  the  little  pet  away. 

But  all  this  only  seemed  to  harden  her. 
May  was  such  a  darling,  the  sweetest  and 
dearest  of  all  her  brothers  and  sisters,  Gracie 
thought ;  and,  although  the  sweet,  coaxing  voice 
had  touched  her,  she  only  found  in  her  mother's 
interference  fresh  cause  of  offence. 

"  Mamma  tries  to  set  even  May  against  me, 
and  I  s'pose  she's  been  telling  all  the  children 
what  I  did,"  she  thought ;  "  but  I  don't  care.  1 
believe  they'll  grow  tired  of  having  me  away 
before  I  am  tired  of  staying  here.  There's 
plenty  for  me  to  do.  I  can  read,  and  I'll  work 
on  my  mat." 

10 


146  Jessie's  Parrot, 

But  here  it  suddenly  flashed  upon  her  that 
she  had  not  brought  her  mat  home  with  her. 
Being  sent  away  in  disgrace  and  not  returning 
to  the  school-room  before  leaving,  she  had  quite 
forgotten  it,  and  it  still  lay  there  in  her  desk. 
And  that  stain  upon  it,  too,  which  she  had 
intended  to  ask  her  mother  to  take  out  if  pos- 
sible. Mamma  would  not  feel  like  doing  it  for 
her  now,  and  she  could  ask  no  favors  from  her. 
Not  unless  she  repented  and  —  and  —  apolo- 
gized to  Miss  Ashton.  And  this  last  she 
would  not  do ;  no,  never,  never. 

She  heard  the  children  going  downstairs, 
stood  at  the  window  and  watched  them  get  into 
the  carriage  and  drive  away  with  mamma,  and 
began  to  wish  that-  she  were  there  too.  And 
such  a  lovely  afternoon,  it  was  too  bad  to  be 
shut  up  here.  But  still  she  never  blamed  her- 
self for  her  imprisonment ;  no,  mamma,  Miss 
Ashton,  Nellie,  any  one  was  in  the  wrong,  but 
not  her  own  wilful,  stubborn  little  self.  What 
was  to  be  the  end  of  this  she  did  not  know, 
but  Gracie  had  no  thought  of  yielding. 


A  Misfortune,  147 

She  whiled  away  the  afternoon  as  she  best 
could  ;  but  every  thing  seemed  to  have  lost  its 
zest.  Her  prettiest  story-books  had  no  inter- 
est ;  her  dolls  were  ''  stupid  "  and  poor  com- 
pany ;  even  her  stock  of  pretty  materials  for 
articles  for  the  fair  seemed  less  attractive 
than  usual  as  she  turned  them  over,  and  her 
work  "  would  not  go." 

This  was  the  first  time  in  her  life  that  Gracie 
had  ever  been  punished  in  such  a  manner  ;  and 
apart  from  the  disgrace,  which  she  was  deter- 
mined not  to  feel,  she  was  a  child  who  was 
fond  of  society  and  did  not  know  how  to  bear 
being  deprived  of  it. 


YIII. 


THE  SPIDER  AND   THE  FLY: 


F  Mrs.  Howard  had  perhaps  hoped 
that  little  May's  pleading  would 
have  any  softening  effect  on  Gracie, 
she  was  mistaken.  The  message  she  had 
expected  to  receive  on  reaching  home  did  not 
come  to  her.  Nor  did  she  hear  a  word  from 
Gracie  through  the  evening  until  the  little 
girl's  bed-time  came.  Then  she  sent  word 
that  the  hour  had  come,  still  hoping  and 
believing  that  the  stubborn  heart  must  relent, 
and  that  Gracie  would  feel  that  she  could  not 
go  to  rest  unforgiven  and  without  her  moth- 
er's good-night  kiss.  But  she  was  mistaken. 
Gracie  r:^ reived  the  message  in  sullen  silence, 


**  The  Slider  and  the  Fly*^         149 

but  obeyed  and  went  to  bed  without  one  word 
of  sorrow  or  repentance. 

It  was  the  same  in  the  morning.  Gracie 
rose  and  was  dressed ;  her  breakfast  was 
brought  and  eaten  in  solitude,  as  her  dinner 
and  supper  had  been  yesterday ;  and  still  the 
nurse  who  waited  upon  her  passed  in  and  out, 
as  it  was  necessary,  and  brought  no  word  to 
comfort  the  sorrowing  heart  of  her  mother. 

School-time  came,  and  Gracie  knew  that 
ihe  children  in  her  class  would  believe  that 
her  absence  was  caused  by  her  misconduct  of 
the  previous  day,  as  was  indeed  too  true ;  but 
this  only  made  her  feel  more  and  more  proud 
and  obstinate. 

The  long,  weary  morning  wore  away,  the 
solitary  dinner  was  once  more  over,  and  again 
the  house  seemed  so  still  and  lonely,  for  mam- 
ma and  the  children  had  gone  out  again, 
and  the  servants  were  all  downstairs. 

By  and  by  Gracie  heard  a  light,  quick  foot 
running  up  the  stairs  and  coming  towards  her 
own   door.      The   latch  was   turned  and  the 


^5^                    y^ssie^s  Parrot,  I 

I 

door   softly  opened,  —  Mrs.  Howard  had  not  j 

locked  her  in,  for  she  believed  that  she  could  \ 

trust  Gracie  and  that  she  would  not  disobey  I 

so  far  as  to  leave  the  room  she  had  been  bid-  ■ 

den  to  keep, — and  Hattie's  face  peeped  in.  '\ 

Gracie     started,    partly    in     astonishment,  j 

partly  in  dismay ;  for  what  must  she  do  now  ?  \ 

Mamma  would  not  have  allowed  her  to  see  \ 

Hattie,  she  knew,  if  she  had  been  at  home  ;  ' 

and  must  she  send  her  away  ?     She  was  so  j 

glad  to  see  some  one,  to  be  able  to  speak  to  i 

some  one.  ] 

Hattie  came  in,  closed  the  door  behind  her, 

and,  running  to  Gracie,  put  her  arm  about  her  j 

neck  and  kissed  her,  saying  with  much  energy, —  ] 

''  It's  too  mean,  Gracie  !   it's   the  meanest  ,; 
thing  I  ever  knew  !  It's  a  great  shame  1 " 

There  could  be  no  doubt  of  her  sympathy, 

of  her  belief  that  Gracie  was  in  the  right,  or  i 

at   least  that  she  was   not  so  very  much  to  ] 

blame,  and  was  undeservedly  punished.     For  < 

Hattie   was    really   and  truly  very   fond   of  \ 

Gracie,  admired  her  and  considered  her  very  i 


"  The  Slider  and  the  Fly  J'         151 

clever ;  and,  although  even  she  had  been  dis- 
mayed bj  Grade's  outburst  yesterday,  she  was 
now  disposed  to  treat  it  lightly,  and  to  say  that 
Gracie  had  been  provoked.  There  was  another 
reason,  too,  which  induced  Hattie  to  take  part 
against  Nellie  Ransom,  and  to  wish  to  put  her 
in  the  wrong. 

"  0  Hattie  !  "  said  Gracie,  '*  how  did  you 
come  up  here  ?  Mamma  wouldn't  allow  it,  I 
know." 

Hattie  laughed  triumphantly. 

"  I  knew  that,"  she  said,  "  for  I  came  to  the 
door  a  little  while  ago  and  the  servant  said 
you  were  up  in  your  room,  but  he  thought  you 
could  not  see  any  one  to-day,  and  he  said  every 
one  else  was  out.  But  I  said  I  had  a  message 
from  school  for  you,  and  that  you  must  have  it 
this  afternoon.  So  of  course  he  thought  it 
was  from  Miss  Ashton,  as  I  meant  he  should, 
and  he  let  me  come  up." 

"  Mamma  will  be  displeased,"  said  Gracie  ; 
^'  you  ought  not,  Hattie.  I'm  very  glad  to  see 
you,  but  I  must  not  let  you  stay." 


X52  Jessie^  Parrot, 

"  I'll  only  stay  a  few  minutes,"  said  Hattie, 
taking  the  seat  which  Gracie  had  not  ventured 
to  oifer  her.  "  I've  something  perfectly  splen- 
did to  tell  you." 

"  Was  everybody  saying  ugly  things  about 
me  to-day,  and  talking  as  if  I  was  as  wicked 
as  a  murderer  ?  "  asked  Gracie,  more  interested 
in  the  opinion  others  might  hold  of  her  than 
in  Hattie' s  promised  news. 

There  had  really  been  very  little  said  on  the 
matter ;  the  offence  was  too  serious  and  too 
shocking  to  Grade's  young  companions  to 
make  it  an  agreeable  subject  of  conversation  ; 
and,  although  there  had  been  some  wondering  as 
to  whether  Gracie  would  ever  be  allowed  to 
return  to  the  school,  but  few  unkind  remarks 
had  been  made,  and  these  were  more  in  sorrow 
than  in  censure. 

And  Hattie  was  too  full  of  her  errand  and 
of  the  fear  of  being  found  on  forbidden 
ground  to  make  as  good  a  story  of  that  little  as 
she  might  have  chosen  to  do  at  another  time. 
"  Well,  no,   not  much,"   she   answered.     "  I 


«'  The  Spider  and  the  Fly,''         153 

suppose  that  old  Nellie,  hateful  thing,  was  glad 
enough." 

"  Did  she  say  so  ?  "  questioned  Gracie. 

^'  No,"  said  Hattie  ;  "  she  did  not  speak  about 
it.  Gracie,  did  Miss  Ashton  send  word  to 
your  mother  and  ask  her  to  punish  you  ? " 

"  She  wrote  to  her  about  it,  and  I  suppose 
mamma  punished  me  of  her  own  accord," 
answered  Gracie. 

"  How  long  is  she  going  to  keep  you  up 
here  ?  "  asked  Hattie. 

"  Till  — till  —  I  beg  Miss  Ashton's  pardon," 
said  Gracie,  her  angry  pride  rising  again  at 
the  thought ;  "  and  I  viewer  will  do  it,  no,  never ^ 
not  if  I  stay  here  a  year  !  " 

"  But  the  fair,"  said  Hattie  ;  "  you  know  the 
fair  is  in  two  weeks,  and  if  you  don't  come  out 
before  that  you'll  miss  all  the  fun." 

Now,  apart  from  the  interest  which  all  the 
little  girls  took  in  the  fair,  Gracie  had  a  strong 
desire,  as  usual,  to  play  some  very  prominent 
part  therein.  As  we  know,  she  had  wished  to 
be  Queen,  and  had  been  vexed  because  Maggie 


154  Jessie's  Parrot. 

Bradford  had  been  chosen  again  ;  but,  although 
she  could  not  have  this  coveted  honor,  she  still 
hoped  and  intended  to  make  herself  very  con 
spicuous  there. 

It  was  true  that  the  thought  of  the  fair  and 
all  that  concerned  it  had  been  much  in  her 
mind,  even  during  her  imprisonment ;  but  it  had 
not  occurred  to  her  that  her  resolution  of  never, 
never  apologizing  to  Miss  Ashton, "  even  if  she 
stayed  shut  up  for  a  whole  year,"  would  scarcely 
agree  with  her  appearance  at  the  festival. 

She  sat  as  if  confounded  at  Hattie's  words. 

"I'd  do  it  if  I  were  you,"  continued  the 
latter,  seeing  the  effect  she  had  produced. 
"  It's  a  great  shame  that  you  have  to,  but  then 
you  will  have  to,  you  know  ;  and  I'd  do  it  and 
have  it  over.  If  you're  going  to  fret  and  fuss 
here  about  it,  you'll  feel  a  great  deal  worse  at 
last  when  you  come  to  do  it." 

Hattie's  advice  on  this  subject  was  cer- 
tainly good  in  itself,  though  she  did  not  put 
it  before  Gracie  in  a  right  light. 

"  Miss  Ashton  is  so  unjust  and  so  awfully 


<«  The  Spider  and  the  Fly.''        155 

partial  to  Nellie,"  pouted  Gracie,  although  her 
resolution  was  beginning  to  waver  a  little  for 
the  first  time. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Hattie  ;  "  but  she  can't 
make  other  people  think  Nellie  is  the  smartest 
child.  Every  one  knows  you  are,  Gracie,  even 
if  they  won't  say  so." 

"  I  can  learn  three  lessons  while  Nellie 
learns  one ;  but  Miss  Ashton  is  always  praising 
her  and  never  praises  me,"  was  Grade's 
answer. 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Hattie  again.  "Nellie 
—  oh,  I  can't  bear  that  girl!  —  sets  up  to  be 
so  wonderfully  good,  and  Miss  Ashton  always 
believes  whatever  she  says,  and  makes  such 
a  fuss  about  her ;  but  you  can  just  Bay  you 
beg  Miss  Ashton's  pardon,  and  have  it  over. 
The  rest  of  the  class  will  have  every  thing 
their  own  way  if  you  don't  come  out  pretty 
soon  and  have  your  word  about  the  fair  ;  and 
there's  your  mat,  too,  you  know,  Gracie." 

"  I  forgot  my  mat  yesterday  when  I  came 
away,"  said  Gracie.    "  I  wish  you  had  known 


156  Jessie's  Parrot. 

it  and  then  you  could  have  brought  it  to 
me" 

Again  Hattie  gave  a  triumphant  little  laugh, 
and  putting  her  hand  into  her  pocket  drew 
out  the  mat,  —  that  is,  a  mat. 

Gracie  seized  it  eagerly,  gave  Hattie  a  kiss, 
saying,  "  Oh,  you  dear  thing  !  I'm  so  glad." 

Then  she  looked  for  the  stain,  but  there  was 
no  stain  to  be  seen. 

"  Where's  that  ink-spot  ?  Oh,  Hattie,  did 
you  take  it  out  ?     There's  not  a  sign  of  it." 

"  No,"  said  Hattie,  "  I  did  not  take  it  out." 

i4  Why  !  "  exclaimed  Gracie,  turning  the 
mat  over.  "  Why,  it  is  —  it  is  —  it's  not  mine. 
It's  Nellie's  mat!" 

"  I'm  going  to  tell  you,"  said  Hattie.  ''  This 
morning  Miss  Ashton  handed  me  your  history, 
which  I  believe  you  left  in  the  cloak-room  yes- 
terday, and  told  me  to  put  it  in  your  desk.  So 
when  I  opened  the  desk,  the  first  thing  I  saw 
was  the  mat,  and  I  knew  you  must  have  for- 
gotten it.  Nellie,  the  mean  thing,  she  had 
brought  her  mat  to  school  to-day  again,   and 


<*  The  Sfider  and  the  Fly:'         157 

Baid  she  was  going  to  work  on  it  in  recess ; 
but  when  recess  came  the  other  children 
coaxed  her  to  go  out  in  the  garden  'cause  it 
was  so  pleasant,  and  she  went.  So  while  they 
were  all  down  there,  I  saw  the  way  to  play 
Miss  Nellie  a  good  trick  and  to  help  you,  dear ; 
and  I  ran  up  to  the  school-room,  changed  Nel- 
lie's mat  for  yours,  put  hers  back  just  aa 
she  had  left  it,  and  she'll  never  know  the  dif- 
ference and  think  that  somehow  that  ink-spot 
has  come  on  her  mat.  And  do  you  know, 
Gracie,  it  was  the  most  fortunate  thing  that 
Nellie  had  just  worked  those  two  rows  more 
that  made  her  work  even  with  yours  ;  so  she 
never  can  know.  You  remember  yesterday  we 
could  scarcely  tell  them  apart,  and  now  they 
look  almost  exactly  alike." 

"  But  what  then  ? "  said  Gracie,  almost 
frightened  at  the  thought  of  Hattie's  probable 
meaning. 

*^  Why,  don't  you  see  ?  "  said  Hattie,  who 
told  her  story  as  if  she  thought  she  had  done 
something  very  clever  and  praiseworthy  ;  '*  you 


158  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

can  just  finish  this  mat  as  if  it  was  your  own, 
and  need  not  bother  yourself  about  the  ink- 
stain." 

"But  —  but  —  Hattie  —  this  one  is  Nellie's," 
said  Gracie  in  a  shocked  voice. 

"  What  of  that  ?  we'll  keep  the  secret,  and 
no  one  will  ever  know  but  us  two,"  said  Hattie. 
"  Nellie  has  the  other  one,  and  that's  good 
enough  for  her.  She  has  no  right  to  expect 
the  most  money  from  your  grandmamma. 
Take  a  great  deal  of  pains  with  this,  Gracie, 
and  make  the  work  look  just  like  Nellie's." 

"  But,  I  can't,  I  can't,"  said  Gracie.  "  It 
seems  to  me  almost  like —  stealing." 

"  Stealing  1 "  repeated  Hattie.  "  I'd  like  to 
know  who  has  been  stealing  !  I  only  changed 
the  mats,  and  you  have  the  best  right  to  the 
nicest  one.  I  was  not  going  to  have  Nellie  get 
every  thing  away  from  you.  She  just  thinks 
she's  going  to  make  herself  the  head  of  the 
school  and  beat  you  in  every  thing." 

Now  as  I  have  said,  and  as  you  w^ill  readily 
believe,  there  was  more  at  the  bottom  of  Hat« 


«*  The  Spder  and  the  Fly:'        159 

tie's  desire  to  thwart  Nellie  than  her  wish  to 
see  Gracie  stand  first,  although  she  was  really- 
very  fond  of  the  latter,  and  it  was  this. 

It  had  so  happened  that  Nellie's  rather 
blunt  truthfulness  and  clear-sighted  honesty 
had  more  than  once  detected  Hattie's  want  of 
straightforwardness,  and  even  defeated  some 
object  she  had  in  view,  and  for  this  Hattie  bore 
her  a  grudge.  She  was  particularly  divSpleased 
with  her  at  the  present  time  because  of  a  repri- 
mand from  Miss  Ashton  which  she  chose  to 
consider  she  owed  to  Nellie. 

Coming  to  school  rather  early  one  morning, 
a  day  or  two  since,  Nellie  found  Belle  Powers 
and  Hattie  there  before  her. 

Belle  sat  upon  the  lower  step  of  the  upper 
flight  of  stairs,  in  a  state  of  utter  woe,  with  the 
saddest  of  little  faces,  and  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes.  Hattie,  grasping  the  banister 
with  one  hand,  was  swinging  herself  back  and 
forth,  saying,  "  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  were  you. 
'Tis  nothing  to  cry  about ;  "  but  she  looked 
ashamed  and  rather  caught  when  she  saw 
Nellie  coming  up  the  stairs. 


i6o  yesstes  Parrot. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Belle  ?  "  asked  Nellie, 
sitting  down  beside  the  school  pet  and  darling, 
and  putting  her  arm  around  her  neck. 

"  Fannj  Leroj  said  things  about  me,"  sobbed 
Belle. 

"^  What  things  ? "  questioned  Nellie  with  a 
searching  look  at  Hattie. 

"  She  said  I  was  so  bad  and  spoiled  I  could 
hardly  ever  be  good,  even  when  I  wanted  to," 
answered  Belle  piteously ;  "  and  she  said  Miss 
Ashton  had  to  be  excusing  me  all  the  time  for 
the  naughty  things  I  did  in  school.  And  I 
loved  Fanny,  and  1  wouldn't  have  said  such  bad 
thltigb  about  her  ;  and,  oh,  dear  !  I  thought  she 
loved  me  too.  She  came  to  Aunt  Margaret's 
when  I  was  there  the  day  before  she  went  away, 
to  say  good-bye  to  Maggie  and  Bessie  and  me ; 
and  she  gave  us  each  a  nutmeg  to  remember 
her  by  and  to  keep  for  ever  an'  ever  an'  ever 
for  a  keepsake,  and  she  kissed  me  ever  so 
many  times.  And  all  the  time  she  had  been 
saying  bad  things  about  me,  and  so  I'm  going 
to  throw  away  the  nutmeg,  'cause  I  don't  want 


*'  The  Slider  and  the  Fly,^''        i6i 

a  keepsake  of  a  girl  who  made  b'lieve  she 
liked  me  when  she  didn't." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Nellie  with  far 
more  energy  than  was  usual  with  her,  and  still 
regarding  Hattie  with  searching  looks. 

"  But  Hattie  says  she  did,"  repeated  Belle. 

Hattie 's  saying  a  thing  made  it  by  no  means 
sure  in  Nellie's  eyes,  and  although  she  was  not 
apt  to  interfere  or  meddle  where  she  had  no 
right  to  do  so,  she  would  not  let  this  pass 
without  further  questioning.  She  was  fond  of 
the  absent  Fanny  and  loved  Belle  dearly  ;  and 
believing  that  both  were  now  wronged,  she  set 
herself  to  right  them  if  possible. 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  she  said  again. 

"  Well,  you  just  can  believe  it,"  said  Hattie 
resentfully.  "  Don't  I  know  what  Fanny 
said  to  me  ?  It's  nothing  to  make  such  a  fuss 
about,  anyhow. 

"  Belle  has  very  easily  hurt  feelings,"  said 

Nellie  ;  "  and  besides,  it  ^s  something  to  make  a 

fuss  about.    And  Fanny  hardly  ever  would  say 

unkind  things  of  other  people ;  the  girls  used 

11 


1 62  yesste's  Parrot. 

to  think  she  was  'most  too  particular  about  it 
And,  Hattie  Leroy,  I  don't  believe  she  evei 
said  such  things  about  Belle ;  anyhow,  not  'vo 
that  way." 

"  She  did,  too,  I  tell  you,"  persisted  HattiG, 
secure  in  Fanny's  absence,  and  determined  no^c 
to  acknowledge  that  she  had  misrepresented 
her  innocent  words,  from  the  mere  love  of 
talking  and  exaggeration,  too ;  for  she  had  not 
intended  to  hurt  Belle  so  much,  and  was  now 
really  sorry  to  see  her  so  grieved.  "  She  did, 
too,  I  tell  you.  How  do  you  know  what  Fanny 
said  to  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  she  did  say,  but  I  am 
sure  she  never  said  that,"  repeated  Nellie. 

Both  little  girls  had  raised  their  voices 
as  they  contradicted  one  another,  and  as 
the  tones  of  neither  were  very  amicable  by 
this  time,  they  drew  the  attention  of  Miss 
Ash  ton. 

"  What  is  this,  my  little  girls  ;  what  is  the 
trouble  ?  "  she  asked,  coming  up  the  stairs  to 
them ;  then,  seeing  Belle's  still  distressed  and 


"  The  Spide?   and  the  Fly:'         163 

tear-stained  face  she  inquired,  "  Belle,  darling, 
what  is  wrong  ?  " 

Nellie  and  Hattie  were  both  rather  abashed, 
especially  the  latter,  who  knew  herself  to  be  in 
the  wrong ;  but  Belle  answered,  "  Hattie 
thinks  Fanny  Leroy  said  something,  and  Nellie 
thinks  she  didn't.  I  don't  know,"  she  added 
with  a  mournful  shake  of  her  head,  "  but 
somehow  somebody  must  be  rather  '  deceitful 
and  despicably  wicked. '  "  Desperately,  Belle 
meant,  and  she  quoted  her  words  in  no  spirit 
of  irreverence,  but  because  she  thought  them 
suited  to  the,  to  her,  solemnity  of  the  oc- 
casion. 

Miss  Ashton,  too,  feared  that  there  was 
some  deceitfulness,  or  at  least  exaggeration  ; 
and  seeing  that  little  Belle  was  in  real  trouble 
she  questioned  further,  and  Nellie  told  her 
what  Hattie  had  said. 

This  was  not  the  first  time,  by  any  means, 
that  Miss  Ashton  had  known  mischief  to  arise 
from  Hattie' s  thoughtless  way,  to  call  it  by  no 
worse  name,  of  repeating  things ;  and  she  re- 


164  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

proved  her  pretty  sharply,  telling  her  that  such 
speeches  were  not  at  all  like  her  gentle,  ami- 
able cousin  Fanny,  and  she  could  not  believe 
her  guilty  of  them;  and  even  had  she  said 
them  she,  Hattie,  had  no  right  to  repeat  them 
and  make  needless  sorrow  and  trouble  for 
Belle.  Then  she  soothed  Belle  and  encouraged 
her  to  think  that  Fanny  had  not  so  wronged 
her ;  and  after  school  she  kept  Hattie  for  a  few 
moments,  and  spoke  to  her  very  seriously  but 
kindly  on  her  idle,  foolish  habit  of  telling  tales 
with  exaggeration  and  untruthfulness. 

But  Hattie,  in  repeating  this,  had  said  that 
"  Miss  Ashton  kept  her  in  and  gave  her  an 
awful  scolding  just  because  she  had  said  some- 
thing that  cry-baby  Belle  did  not  like,  and 
Nellie  went  and  told  her  and  so  put  her  in  a 
scrape  ;  "  nor  did  she  see  that  it  had  been  her 
own  blame  in  the  first  instance.  And  over 
since  she  had  been  vexed  with  Nellie,  and  this 
added  strength  to  her  wish  to  have  Gracie  out- 
strip Nellie.  It  was  not  altogether  this,  let  us 
do  her  justice,  for  she  really  loved  Giacie  bet- 


**  The  Spider  and  the  Fly.''        165 

ter  than  any  other  child  in  the  school,  and  was 
anxious  to  have  her  Avin  for  her  own  sake. 

But  we  must  go  back  to  these  two  little  girla 
as  they  sat  together  in  Grade's  room. 

"  Yes,  so  she  does,"  echoed  Gracie  ;  "  and  I 
suppose  now  Miss  Ashton  will  take  away  my 
conduct  marks,  and  being  away  to-day,  I'll  lose 
my  place  in  all  the  classes  too.  Not  that  I 
could  not  get  ahead  of  her  again  easily  enough," 
she  added  contemptuously. 

"  But  she  can't  have  the  best  mat  now," 
said  Hattie. 

"  I  don't  see  how  I  could  do  that,"  said 
Gracie.  "  It  is  her's,  you  know,  Hattie,  and  I 
can't,  really  I  can't." 

"  But  you'll  have  to  now,"  said  Hattie. 
"  You  know  Nellie  has  found  the  ink-spot  on 
the  other  mat  by  this  time,  and  there's  no  way 
to  give  her  this  one  back." 

Yes,  there  was  one  way,  but  that  did  not 
enter  Hattie's  thoughts. 

"I  couldn't,"  said  Gracie  again,  shrinking 
at  the  idea  of  doing  what  she  knew  to  be  so 


l66  yessie's  Parrot, 

dishonest  and  deceitful.  "  I  must  have  my 
own  mat,  Hattie  ;  but  I  do  wish  this  was  mine 
and  the  other  Nellie's." 

"  But  we  can't  put  it  back  now,  and  I  took 
it  for  you,"  said  Hattie  complainingiy.  "  Gracie, 
you  must  keep  it  now.  I  shall  get  into  an 
awful  scrape  if  you  don't ;  and  it's  real  mean 
of  you." 

It  would  take  too  long  to  tell  you  of  all  the 
arguments  and  persuasions  Hattie  used.  How 
she  pleaded  and  reproached ;  how  she  insisted 
that  there  was  no  way  of  undoing  what  she 
had  done ;  how  she  excited  and  increased 
Grade's  jealous  pride  and  desire  to  outdo 
Nellie  ;  and  this  last  she  found  by  far  the  most 
effectual  argument. 

And  —  Gracie  yielded.  Persuading  herself 
that  she  had  the  best  right  to  receive  the  high- 
est premium  because  her  own  grandmamma 
had  offered  it ;  putting  from  her  the  thought 
of  the  only  way  in  which  justice  could  now  be 
done  to  Nellie,  on  the  plea  that  Hattie  would 
fe^  disgraced^  £^nd  she  would  be  "  too  mean"  to 


''  The  Sfider  and  the  Fly:'        167 

bring  this  upon  her ;  rousing  up  all  her  own 
naughty  and  envious  feelings  against  innocent 
Nellie,  she  gave  way  at  last  and  fell  before 
temptation.  Fell  into  the  very  sin,  or  even 
worse,  from  which  she  felt  herself  so  very 
secure,  —  deceit  and  theft,  for  it  was  no  less. 
"  Now  I'll  go,  dear,"  said  Hattie,  jumping 
up  as  soon  as  Gracie  had  yielded,  perhaps 
afraid  that  she  might  repent  and  insist  that  she 
could  not  keep  the  mat,  "  and  no  one  but  us 
two  will  ever  know  the  secret.  And,  Gracie, 
make  up  your  mind  to  ask  Miss  Ashton's  par- 
don, so  you  won't  lose  all  the  fun." 


IX. 


A  GUILTY  CONSCIENCE. 


F  Gracie  had  been  an  unhappy  and 
miserable  child  before,  what  was  she 
now  with  all  this  load  upon  her  con- 
science ?  For  even  pride  and  self-conceit  could 
not  attempt  to  justify  such  a  deed.  Jealousy 
had  a  good  deal  to  say  ;  and  she  tried  to  listen 
to  that,  and  to  believe  also  that  she  was  not 
really  to  blame  :  she  had  been  forced  into  it ; 
she  could  not  betray  Hattie,  who  had  done  this 
from  love  to  her.  But  she  was  more  wretched 
than  it  would  be  easy  to  tell ;  and  she  was  be- 
ginning to  feel  such  a  contempt  for  her  chosen 
friend  that  this  also  was  a  sore  spot  in  her 


A   Guilty  Conscience,  169 

heart.  Day  by  day  she  was  learning  that  there 
was  nothing  true  or  honorable  or  upright  about 
Hattie.  She  hardly  even  seemed  to  think  it 
much  harm  to  tell  a  falsehood,  or  appeared 
ashamed  when  she  was  found  out ;  and  for 
some  days  she  had  had  a  growing  feeling  that 
it  was  not  pleasant  to  have  a  friend  with  the 
character  of  a  "  story-teller,"  which  Hattie 
now  bore  among  her  school-fellows.  And 
Gracie ;  was  she  not  just  as  bad,  perhaps  even 
worse  ?  For  Gracie  had  been  taught  all  the 
value  and  beauty  of  truth,  and  had  never  till 
now  wilfully  fallen  away  from  it ;  but  she  knew 
that  the  worth  of  that  jewel  was  not  much  con- 
sidered in  Hattie's  home,  and  so  it  had  lost  its 
preciousness  in  her  eyes. 

Miss  Ashton,  too,  knew  this  ;  and  so  she  was 
less  severe  with  Hattie  than  she  might  have 
been  with  another  child  who  had  a  better 
example  and  more  encouragement  to  do  right 
in  this  particular. 

Lily,  in  her  plain  speaking,  would  probably 
have  called  Mr,  and  Mrs,  Leroy  by  the  same 


170  Jessicas  Parrot, 

uncomplimentary  name  she  had  given  to  Mr. 
Raymond  ;  for  the  same  foolish  system  of  man- 
agement was  carried  on  in  their  family.  Prob- 
ably they  would  have  been  much  shocked  to 
hear  it  said  that  they  taught  the  lesson  of  de- 
ceit ;  but  was  it  to  be  expected  that  Hattie 
could  have  much  regard  for  the  truth  when  she 
heard  herself  and  her  brothers  and  sisters 
threatened  with  punishments,  which  were  not, 
perhaps  could  not  be  carried  out ;  when  prom- 
ises were  made  to  them  which  were  not  kept ; 
when  they  were  frightened  by  tales  of  bears, 
wolves,  and  old  black  men,  and  such  things 
which  had  no  existence  ? 

"  Willie,  your  mamma  said  she  would  send 
you  to  bed  if  you  went  there,"  was  said  to  little 
Willie  Leroy  one  day. 

"  Oh,  I'm  not  afraid,"  answered  Willie,  con- 
temptuously. "  Mamma  never  does  what  she 
says  ;  "  and  off  he  ran  to  the  forbidden  spot,  his 
words  proving  quite  true,  although  his  mamma 
heard  that  he  had  disobeyed  her  so  deliberately. 

"  Is  your  mother  going  to  make  you  something 


A   Guilty   Conscience,  171 

for  the  fair  ?  "  Hattie  was  asked  by  one  of  her 
schoohnates. 

"  She  says  so  ;  but  I  don't  know  if  she  will," 
was  the  answer. 

Hattie's  was  not  the  simple  faith  of  "  Mam- 
ma says  so,"  so  sweet  in  little  children. 
Mamma  might  or  might  not  do  as  she  had  said 
she  would,  according  to  the  convenience  of 
the  moment. 

So  it  was  no  marvel  that  Hattie  thought  it 
no  great  harm  to  escape  punishment  or  gain 
some  fancied  good  by  stretching  the  truth,  or 
even  telling  a  deliberate  falsehood  ;  or  that, 
having  a  great  love  of  talking,  a  story  should 
outgrow  its  true  dimensions  in  her  hands  ;  or 
that  she  did  not  see  what  was  honest  and  up- 
right as  well  as  some  children. 

But  with  Gracie  Howard  it  was  very  differ- 
ent. 

Truth,  and  truth  before  all  things,  was  the 
motto  in  her  home,  the  leeson  which  from  her 
babyhood  had  been  taught  to  her  by  precept 
and  by  example  ;  and  the  conscience  which,  in 


172  Jessie's  Parrot. 

Hattie,  was  so  easily  put  to  sleep,  would  not  let 
her  rest.  In  vain  did  jealousy  and  ambition 
try  to  reconcile  her  to  the  act  of  dishonesty 
and  meanness  into  which  she  had  allowed  her^ 
self  to  be  drawn ;  in  vain  did  she  argue  with 
herself  that  "  it  was  all  Hattie' s  fault ; "  she 
could  not  betray  Hattie  when  she  had  done 
this  just  for  her  ;  or  "  there  was  no  way  of 
putting  the  mat  back  now ;  she  could  not  help 
herself."  Gracie  sinned  with  her  eyes  open, 
and  her  conscience  all  alive  to  the  wickedness 
of  which  she  was  guilty. 

But  her  stubborn  pride  was  beginning  to 
give  way  in  one  point ;  for  she  had  no  mind  to 
"  lose  the  fun  of  the  fair, "  as  Hattie  said,  — 
though  even  the  fair  had  lost  some  of  its 
attraction  with  this  weight  upon  her  conscience, 
—  and  she  resolved  to  send  for  her  mother,  and 
tell  her  she  would  ask  Miss  Ashton's  pardon. 

So  when  the  long,  weary  afternoon  had 
worn  away,  and  Mrs.  Howard  came  home, 
Gracie  rang  the  bell,  and  sent  a  message  beg- 
ging her  mother  to  come  to  her. 


A   Guilty  Conscience,  173 

Mamma  came  thankfully ;  but  one  look  at 
her  little  daughter's  face  was  enough  to  con- 
vince her  that  she  was  in  no  softened  mood, 
in  no  gentle  and  humbled  spirit.  It  was  with 
a  sullen  and  still  half-defiant  manner  that 
Gracie  offered  to  do  what  was  required  of  her ; 
and  her  mother  saw  that  it  was  fear  of  farther 
punishment,  and  not  real  sorrow  and  repent- 
ance, which  moved  her. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  so, 
mamma,"  she  answered,  when  her  mother 
asked  her  if  she  did  not  see  how  very  naughty 
she  had  been  ;  "  but  Miss  Ashton  is  so  unjust, 
and  Nellie  provokes  me  so." 

^'  How  is  Miss  Ashton  unjust  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Howard. 

Gracie  fidgeted  and  pouted,  knowing  that 
her  mother  would  not  be  willing  to  accept  the 
chp-Tges  she  was  ready  to  bring. 

"  She's  always  praising  Nellie  for  every  thing 
she  does,  mamma ;  and  in  these  days  she  never 
gives  me  one  word  of  praise,  even  when  every 
one  has  to  see  that  I  do  the  best.     And  —  and 


174  ycssi'e's  Parrot. 

—  I  b'lieve  she  tries  to  make  me  miss,  so  Nel- 
lie can  go  above  me  in  the  classes." 

"  Gracie,"  said  her  mother,  "  you  know  that 
that  last  accusation  is  untrue.  As  for  the  first, 
if  Miss  Ashton  is  sparing  of  her  praise,  my 
daughter,  it  is  because  she  knows  it  is  hurtful 
to  you.  Nellie  is  a  timid  child,  trying  to  do 
her  best,  but  with  little  confidence  in  her  own 
powers ;  and  praise,  while  it  encourages  and 
helps  her  to  persevere,  does  not  make  her  vain 
or  conceited.  But  Miss  Ashton  sees  that  that 
which  is  needful  for  Nellie  is  hurtful  to  you  ; 
for  it  only  increases  your  foolish  vanity  and 
self-esteem,  and  it  is  for  your  own  g  )od  that 
she  gives  you  a  smaller  share.  You  have, 
unhappily,  so  good  an  opinion  of  yourself, 
Gracie,  that  praise  not  only  makes  you  dis- 
agreeable, but  disposes  you  to  take  less  trouble 
to  improve  yourself.  Let  me  hear  no  more  of 
Miss  Ashton's  injustice.  When  you  deserve  it, 
or  it  does  not  hurt  you.  Miss  Ashton  is  as  ready 
to  give  praise  to  you  as  she  is  to  another.  You 
say  you  are  willing  to  ask  her  pardon  for  your 


A   Guilty  Conscience,  175 

impertinence  ;  but  I  fear  that  you  do  not  really 
see  your  fault." 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  let  me  come  out,  then, 
mamma  ? " 

"  Yes,  since  you  promise  to  do  as  1  say  ;  but 
I  fear  you  are  in  no  proper  spirit,  Gracie,  and 
that  you  will  fall  into  further  trouble  unless 
you  become  more  submissive  and  modest." 

"  Hattie  was  here  this  afternoon,  mamma," 
said  Gracie,  as  she  followed  her  mother  from 
the  room. 

"  So  I  understood,"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  who 
had  been  waiting  for  the  confession,  having  been 
informed  of  the  circumstance  by  the  servant. 

"  I  left  my  mat  in  school  yesterday,"  said 
Gracie,  "  and  she  thought  I  would  want  it,  and 
came  to  bring  it  back." 

She  spoke  in  a  low  tone  and  with  downcast 
eyes  ;  for  Gracie  was  so  unused  to  deceit  that 
she  could  not  carry  it  out  boldly,  as  a  more 
practised  child  might  have  done. 

Something  in  her  manner  struck  her  mother, 
who  turned  and  looked  at  her. 


176  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

"  Did  Hattie  bring  you  any  message  from 
Miss  Asliton  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No,  mamma :  she  only  came  about  the  mat ; 
and  she  begged  me  to  ask  Miss  Asliton' s  par- 
don," answered  Gracie  with  the  same  hesita- 
tion. 

But  her  mother  only  thought  that  the  avert- 
ed face  and  drooping  look  were  due  to  the 
shame  which  she  felt  at  meeting  the  rest  of  the 
family  after  her  late  punishment  and  disgrace. 

"  I  told  Hattie  you  would  not  wish  her  to 
stay  with  me,  mamma ;  but  she  would  not  go 
right  away,  but  I  would  not  let  her  stay  very 
long." 

"  I  am  glad  you  were  so  honest,  dear,"  said 
Mrs  Howard. 

Honest !  Gracie  knew  how  little  she  deserved 
such  a  character,  and  her  mother's  praise  made 
her  feel  more  guilty  than  ever. 

She  was  received  with  open  arms  by  the 
otiier  children  ;  for  Gracie  was  the  eldest  of  the 
flock,  and,  in  spite  of  her  self-conceit,  she  was 
a  kind  little  sister,  and  the  younger  ones  quite 


A   Guilty  Conscience,  177 

shared  her  own  opinion,  thinking  no  child  so 
good  and  wise  as  their  Gracie.  And  they  had 
missed  her  very  much  ;  so  now  they  all  treated 
her  as  if  she  had  been  ill  or  absent,  and  made 
much  of  her. 

But  for  once  Gracie  could  not  enjoy  this, 
and  it  only  seemed  to  make  her  feel  more 
ashamed  and  guilty.  What  would  mamma 
say,  what  would  all  say  if  they  only  knew  ? 

Mrs.  Howard  had  told  Gracie  that  she  might 
either  go  to  school  early  in  the  morning  and 
make  her  apology  to  Miss  Ashton  before  the 
other  scholars  came,  or  she  might  write  to 
her  this  evening,  and  send  the  note  to  her 
teacher. 

Gracie  had  chosen  to  do  the  last ;  but  when 
the  younger  children  had  gone  to  bed,  and  she 
tried  to  write  the  note,  she  found  she  could 
not  bring  her  mind  to  it.  Her  conscience  was 
so  troubled,  and  her  thoughts  so  full  of  her  guilty 
secret,  that  the  words  she  needed  would  not 
come  to  her ;  and  as  her  mother  saw  her  sit- 
ting with  her  elbows  upon  the  table,  biting  the 
12 


178  Jessie^ s  Parrot, 

end  of  her  pencil  or  scrawling  idly  over  her 
blotter  and  seeming  to  make  no  progress  at  all, 
she  believed,  and  with  reason,  that  Gracie  was 
not  truly  repentant  for  what  she  had  done,  and 
had  only  promised  to  beg  Miss  Ashton's  par- 
don in  order  that  she  might  be  released  from 
the  imprisonment  of  which  she  had  tired. 
Gracie  was  not  usually  at  a  loss  for  ideas  or 
words  where  she  had  any  thing  to  write. 

"  I  can't  do  it,"  she  said  pettishly  at  last, 
pushing  paper  and  pencil  from  her.  "  I  s'pose 
I'll  have  to  go  to  Miss  Ashton  in  the  morning, 
and  I  b'lieve  I'll  go  to  bed  now.  Good-night, 
mamma.'' 

And  Gracie  went  to  her  room,  wishing  to 
escape  from  her  own  thoughts,  and  bring 
this  miserable  day  to  a  close  as  soon  as 
possible. 

But  the  next  morning  it  was  no  better ;  and 
now  it  seemed  harder  to  go  to  Miss  Ashton 
and  speak  than  it  would  be  to  write.  But  it 
was  too  late  now :  she  had  no  time  to  compose 
a  note,  ''  make  it  up  "  as  she  would  have  said, 


A    Guilty   Conscience.  179 

and  to  copy  it  before  school,  and  she  must 
abide  by  her  choice  of  the  previous  night. 

She  started  early  for  school,  according  to 
her  mother's  desire,  with  many  charges  from 
her  to  remember  how  grievously  she  had 
offended  Miss  Ashton,  and  to  put  away  pride 
and  self-conceit  and  make  her  apology  in  a 
proper  spirit. 

Had  there  not  been  that  guilty  secret  fret- 
ting at  Grade's  heart,  she  might  have  been  in- 
duced to  be  more  submissive ;  but,  as  it  was, 
she  felt  so  unhappy  that  it  only  increased  her 
reluctance  to  make  amends  to  Miss  Ashton  and 
acknowledge  how  wrong  she  had  been. 

She  asked  for  her  teacher  at  once  when  she 
reached  the  house,  anxious  to  "have  it  over  ;  " 
and,  when  the  young  lady  appeared,  blurted  out, 
"  I  beg  your  pardon.  Miss  Ashton." 

Miss  Ashton  sat  down,  and,  taking  Grade's 
half-reluctant  hand,  drew  her  kindly  tc"«^ards 
her. 

"  It  is  freely  granted,  my  dear,"  she  said* 
"  And  are  you  truly  sorry,  Gracie?  " 


i8o  yesste's  Parrot. 

Gracie  fidgeted  and  wriggled  uneasily  ;  but 
we  who  know  what  she  had  done  can  readily 
believe  that  it  was  more  pride  than  a  strict 
love  of  the  truth  which  led  her  to  say  to  her- 
self that  she  was  "  not  sorry, "  and  "  she 
could  not  tell  a  story  by  saying  so." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  ma'am,  and  I  won't  do 
so  again,"  she  repeated,  seeing  that  Aliss  Ashton 
waited  for  her  answer. 

Miss  Ashton  did  not  wish  to  force  her  to  say 
that  which  she  did  not  feel,  and  she  saw  that 
it  was  of  no  use  to  argue  with  her  in  her 
present  stubborn  mood ;  but  she  talked  quietly 
and  kindly  to  her,  setting  before  her  the  folly 
and  the  wrong  of  the  self-love  and  vanity 
which  were  ruling  her  conduct,  and  day  by  day 
spoiling  all  that  was  good  and  fair  in  her 
character. 

"  See  what  trouble  they  have  brought  you  into 
now,  Gracie,"  she  said ;  "  and  unless  you 
check  them  in  time,  my  child,  they  will  lead 
you  deeper  into  sin.  I  scarcely  know  you  for 
the  same  little  girl  who  first  came  to  me,  so 


A  Guilty  Conscience,  i8i 

much  have  these  faults  grown  upon  you  ;  and 
they  are  fast  destroying  all  the  affection  and 
confidence  of  your  school-fellows.  Why, 
Gracie,  I  have  heard  one  little  girl  say  that 
*  Gracie  thought  so  much  of  herself  that  it 
sometimes  made  lier  forget  to  be  very  true. '  " 

Gracie  started.  Was  this  the  character  her 
self-love  was  earning  for  her?  she  wlio 
desired  to  stand  so  high  in  all  points  with  the 
world. 

Ah !  but  it  was  for  the  praise  of  man,  and 
not  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  God  that  Gracie 
strove  to  outshine  all  others  ;  and  she  walked 
by  her  own  strength,  and  the  poor,  weak  prop 
must  fail  her  and  would  lay  her  low. 

"  Forget  to  be  very  true !  " 

How  far  she  had  done  this,  even  Miss  Ash- 
ton  did  not  dream  ;  but  it  seemed  to  Gracie 
that  she  had  chosen  her  words  to  give  her 
the  deepest  thrust,  and  she  bowed  her  head  in 
shame  and  fear. 

But  Miss  Asliton,  knowing  nothing  of  what 
was  passing  in  that  guilty  young  heart,  was 


/ 


t82  yessze's  Parrot, 

glad  to  see  this,  and  believed  that  her  words 
were  at  last  making  some  impression  on 
Gracie,  and  that  she  was  taking  her  counsel  and 
reproof  in  a  different  spirit  from  that  in  which 
she  generally  received  them. 

Strange  to  say,  in  all  the  miserable  and 
remorseful  thoughts  which  had  made  her 
wretched  since  yesterday  afternoon,  it  had  not 
once  entered  her  mind  how  she  was  to  face 
Nellie  when  the  poor  child  should  make  known 
the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  her. 

One  by  one  the  children  came  in,  and  how 
awkward  Gracie  felt  in  meeting  them  may 
readily  be  imagined  by  any  one  who  has  suf- 
fered from  some  similar  and  well-merited  dis- 
grace. Still  she  tried,  as  she  whispered  to 
Hattie  she  should  do,  to  "  behave  as  if  nothing 
had  happened ;  "  and  when  little  Belle,  after 
looking  at  her  wistfully  for  a  moment  as  if  un- 
decided how  to  act,  came  up  and  kissed  her, 
saying,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Gracie,"  she 
answered  rather  ungraciously,  "  I'm  sure  it's 
not  so  very  long  since  you  saw  me,"  and  sent 


A   Guilty   Conscience,  183 

the  dear  little  girl  away  feeling  very  much 
rebuffed. 

And  yet  she  really  felt  Belle's  innocent 
friendliness,  and  her  sweet  attempt  to  make 
her  welcome  and  at  her  ease  ;  but  pride  would 
not  let  her  show  it. 

Nellie  was  one  of  the  last  to  arrive,  and  her 
troubled  and  woe-begone  face  startled  Gracie 
and  smote  her  to  the  heart. 

"  Such  a  dreadful  thing  has  happened  to  me," 
said  Nellie,  when  she  was  questioned  by  the 
other  children ;  and  the  tears  started  to  her 
eyes  afresh  as  she  spoke. 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  a  number 
of  eager  voices. 

"  I  don't  know  how  it  can  have  happened," 
said  Nellie,  hardly  able  to  speak  for  tlie  sobs 
she  vainly  tried  to  keep  back.  "  I  have  been 
so,  so  careful ;  but  there  is  an  ugly  spot  like  ink 
or  something  on  my  mat.  I  can't  think  how 
it  ever  came  there,  for  I  put  it  in  my  desk  very 
carefully  when  school  began  yesterday,  and  did 
not  take  it  out  till  I  got  home,  and  I  did  not 


184  Jessie^s  Parrot, 

know  there  was  any  ink  near  it.  But  when  I 
unrolled  it  last  evening  the  stain  was  there, 
and  mamma  thinks  it  is  ink,  and  she  cannot 
get  it  out.  And  I've  taken  such  pains  to  keep 
the  mat  clean  and  nice." 

And  here  poor  Nellie's  voice  broke  down  en- 
tirely, while  Gracie,  feeling  as  if  her  self-com- 
mand, too,  must  give  way,  opened  her  desk  and 
put  her  head  therein,  with  a  horrible  choking 
feeling  in  her  throat. 

"  We'll  all  tell  Mrs.  Howard  it  came  some- 
how through  not  any  fault  of  yours,"  said  Lily. 
"  Never  mind,  Nellie,  yours  is  the  best  mat, 
anyhow :  we  all  know  it ; "  and  Lily  cast  a  de- 
fiant and  provoking  glance  at  Gracie,  which 
was  quite  lost  upon  the  latter. 

Lily  had  suggested  on  the  day  before,  that 
when  Gracie  came  back  to  school  they  should 
"  all  behave  just  as  if  nothing  had  happened," 
just  what  Gracie  intended  to  do ;  but  generous 
Lily  had  said  it  in  quite  a  different  spirit  from 
that  in  which  Gracie  proposed  it  to  herself. 

But  Grade's  rebuff  to  Belle,  and  the  seeming 


iiiiliii 


ili||iir'''iiiiii 


/  /Jliiiiyiiii4_-,-^ 


Jessie's  Parrot. 


p.  184. 


A   Guilty  Conscience,  185 

indifference  with  which  she  treated  Nellie's 
misfortune,  roused  Lily's  indignation  once 
more  ;  for  she  thought,  as  did  many  of  the  other 
children,  that  Gracie  did  not  feel  sorry  for  Nel- 
lie's trouble,  since  it  gave  her  the  greater  chance 
of  having  her  own  work  pronounced  the  best, 

"  Yes,  we  will  tell  Mrs.  Howard,"  said  Dora 
Johnson  :  "  yours  was  really  the  best  mat  of 
all,  though  Grade's  was  almost  as  nice ;  and 
we  will  tell  her  something  happened  to  it  that 
you  could  not  help,  and  perhaps  she  will  not 
mind  it." 

"  Perhaps  a  vase  standing  on  it  would  cover 
the  spot,"  said  Laura  Middleton. 

Nellie  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  said,  "  that  would  not  make  it 
any  better.  Mrs.  Howard  said  that  the  best 
and  neatest  mat  must  take  the  highest  pre- 
mium, and  mine  is  not  the  neatest  now.  I 
wouldn't  feel  comfortable  to  do  any  thing  that 
was  not  quite  fair,  even  if  you  all  said  I 
might." 

"  That  was  not  quite  fair  1 " 


1 86  Jessie's  Parrot. 

More  and  more  ashamed,  and  feeling  how 
far  behind  Nellie  left  her  in  honesty  and  fair- 
ness, Gracie  still  sat  fumbling  in  her  desk, 
looking  for  nothing. 

"  Well,"  said  Dora,  '*  we'll  speak  to  Mrs. 
Howard  about  it,  and  see  what  she  says :  won't 
we,  Gracie  ? " 

Gracie  muttered  something  which  might 
mean  either  yes  or  no. 

"  Augh  I  "  said  Lily,  "  what  do  you  talk  to 
that  proudy  about  it  for  ?  She  don't  care  a 
bit.  I  b'lieve  she's  just  glad  and  wouldn't  help 
Nellie  if  she  could."  *    . 

Gracie  made  no  answer :  she  was  too  miser- 
able for  words  or  to  think  of  answering  Lily's 
taunts,  and  she  would  have  given  up  all  thought 
of  having  any  thing  to  do  with  the  fair  to  have 
had  Nellie's  mat  safely  in  her  possession  once 
more.  Oh,  if  she  had  never  yielded  to  temp- 
tation or  to  Hattie's  persuasions  ! 

"  How  you  do  act ! "  whispered  Hattie  to 
Gracie.  ''  If  you  don't  take  care  they  will  sus- 
pect something." 


A   Guilty   Conscience.  187 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  returned  Grade  in  the 
same  tone :  "  it  is  such  an  awful  story  that  we 
have  told." 

"  It  is  not  a  story,"  said  Hattie ;  "  we've 
neither  of  us  said  one  word  about  the  mat." 

This  was  a  new  view  of  the  matter ;  but  it 
brought  no  comfort  to  Gracie's  conscience. 
She  knew  that  the  acted  deceit  was  as  bad  as 
the  spoken  one,  perhaps  in  this  case  even  worse. 

She  felt  as  if  she  could  not  bear  this  any 
longer,  as  if  she  must  tell,  must  confess  what 
she  had  done;  and  yet  —  how?  How  could 
she  lower  herself  so  in  the  eyes  of  her  school- 
mates ?  she  who  had  always  held  herself  so 
high,  been  so  scornful  over  the  least  meanness, 
equivocation,  or  approach  to  falsehood  ! 

A  more  wretched  little  girl  than  Gracie  was 
that  morning  it  would  have  been  hard  to  find  ; 
but  her  teacher  and  schoolmates  thought  her 
want  of  spirit  arose  from  the  recollection  of 
her  late  naughtiness  and  the  feeling  of  shame, 
and  took  as  little  notice  of  it  as  possible. 

And  Lily,  repenting  of  her  resentment  when 


1 88  Jessie^ s  Parrot. 

she  saw  how  dull  and  miserable  Gracie  seemed, 
threw  her  arms  about  her  neck  as  they  were 
leaving  school,  and  said,  "  Please  forgive  me 
my  provokingness  this  morning,  Gracie.  I 
ought  to  be  ashamed,  and  I  am." 

But  Gracie  could  not  return,  scarcely  suffer, 
the  caress,  and  dared  not  trust  herself  to  speak, 
as  she  thought  how  furious  Lily's  indignation 
would  be  if  she  but  knew  the  truth. 


^gfi^ 


X. 

A  GAME  OF  CHARACTERS. 

T  home  or  at  school,  studying,  working 
or  playing  —  for  the  latter  she  had 
little  heart  now  —  Gracie  could  not 
shake  off  the  weight  that  was  upon  her  mind 
and  spirits.  Even  her  work  for  the  fair  had 
lost  its  interest ;  and  as  for  the  mat,  Nellie's 
mat,  she  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  it.  She 
went  to  sleep  at  night  thinking  of  it,  and  try- 
ing to  contrive  some  way  out  of  her  difficulty, 
though  she  would  not  listen  to  the  voice  of  her 
conscience  which  whispered  that  there  was  but 
one  way ;  and  she  woke  in  the  morning  with 
the  feeling  that  something  dreadful  had  hap- 
pened.    Appetite  and  spirits  failed ;  she  grew 


ipo  Jessie's  Parrots 

fretful  and  irritable,  and  her  mother  imagined 
that  she  must  be  ill,  though  Gracie  resolutely 
persisted  that  tliere  was  nothing  the  matter 
with  her,  and  that  she  felt  quite  well. 

"  Gracie,"  said  Mrs.  Howard  one  morning 
after  three  or  four  days  had  passed,  "  it  appears 
to  me  tliat  you  ar^.  not  doing  much  on  your 
mat.     How  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  answered  Gracie,  fretfully. 
"  I  don't  believe  I'll  finish  it.  I'm  tired  of  the 
old  thing." 

"  That  will  not  do,  my  child,"  said  her 
mother.  "  You  have  undertaken  to  do  this  for 
your  grandmamma  and  for  the  fair,  and  I  can- 
not have  you  stop  it  now  without  some  good 
reason.     Bring  the  mat  to  me." 

Gracie  went  for  the  mat  very  unwillingly, 
though  she  dared  not  refuse  nor  even  show  her 
reluctance. 

"  It  really  does  you  credit,"  said  Mrs. 
Howard,  taking  it  from  her  hands :  ''  it  is  so 
smooth  and  even,  and  you  have  kept  it  so 
neat.     But  you  must  be  more  industrious,  dear, 


A   Game  of  Character's,  191 

if  you  are  to  have  it  finished  in  time.  And 
see,  Gracie,"  she  continued,  looking  at  it  more 
closely,  ^'  these  last  few  lines  look  not  quite 
as  nicely  as  the  rest.  There  is  a  difference  in 
the  work,  and  you  will  have  to  take  more  pains 
than  you  have  done  here.  It  looks  almost  as 
if  another  person  had  worked  it.  You  have 
not  let  any  one  help  you  with  it,  have  you  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma,"  replied  Gracie  in  a  low  tone 
and  with  a  frightened  feeling.  Was  there 
really  such  a  difference  between  her  work  and 
Nellie's  that  it  was  so  easily  detected  ? 

It  had  not  occurred  either  to  her  or  to 
Hattie,  perhaps  they  did  not  know,  that  the 
work  of  two  different  hands  seldom  or  never 
matches  well  upon  embroidery  in  worsted, 
and  that  it  is  almost  sure  to  be  perceived. 
She  was  dismayed  at  the  thought  that  her 
mother  had  noticed  this,  and  now  every  stitch 
that  she  took  seemed  to  make  the  difference 
more  plain,  take  what  pains  she  might. 

She  began  to  feel  angry  and  indignant  at 
Hattie  for  leading  her  into  this  sin,  shutting 


192  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

her  oyes  to  the  fact  that,  if  she  had  not 
allowed  proud  aud  jealous  thoughts  to  creep 
into  her  hearty  temptation  would  not  have  had 
BO  much  influence  over  her. 

She  no  longer  took  any  pleasure  in  the 
society  of  her  little  friend,  and  shrank  from 
her  in  a  way  that  Hattie  perceived,  and  by 
which  she  was  hurt ;  for  she  was  disposed  in 
her  own  mind  to  throw  all  the  blame  upon 
Hattie,  forgetting  that  she  was  really  the  most 
to  blame,  since  she  had  been  better  taught,  and 
saw  more  clearly  the  difference  between  right 
and  wrong. 

As  for  Nellie,  poor,  innocent,  injured  Nellie, 
Gracie  felt  as  if  she  could  not  bear  the  sight 
of  her ;  and  when  she  saw  in  what  a  gentle, 
patient  spirit  she  took  her  great  misfortune, 
— for  so  all  the  children  considered  it,  —  she 
grew  more  and  more  ashamed  and  lowered  in 
her  own  sight.  Pride  and  self-esteem  could 
not  now  blind  her  to  the  fact  that  Nellie 
was  better,  far  better,  than  herself. 

Meanwhile  the  change  in  Gracie  was  excit- 


A   Game  of  Characters,  193 

ing  the  wonder  of  all,  the  pity  of  some,  of  her 
young  friends  and  schoolmate-s.  Only  Hattie 
held  the  clew  to  it ;  and  she  was  surprised  that 
such  "  a  trifle,"  as  she  considered  it,  should 
have  such  an  effect  upon  Gracie  and  make  her 
so  unhappy. 

But  Gracie  was  not  a  really  bad  or  deceit- 
ful child,  although  she  had  suffered  herself  to 
be  led  so  far  astray.  She  was  not  naturally 
more  unkind  or  selfish  than  most  of  us  who 
have  not  the  love  and  fear  of  God  before  us ; 
indeed  she  was  what  children  call  "  generous  '* 
in  giving  or  sharing  what  she  had,  and  she 
was  always  glad  to  do  a  helpful  or  obliging 
act  for  another.  But  she  had  always  trusted 
to  her  own  strength,  and  believed  she  could 
not  fall,  and  now  she  was  learning  that  her 
high  thoughts  of  herself,  and  her  carelessness 
of  what  she  considered  little  faults,  had  made 
her  an  easy  prey  to  temptation  and  the 
indulgence  of  a  foolish  pride  and  jealousy  had 
led  her  into  this  great  sin  into  which  she  had 
not  imagined  she  could  fall.  But  although 
13 


194  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

she  saw  this  now,  she  was  not  truly  repent- 
ant; for  she  would  not  take  the  only  right 
and  true  way  to  make  amends  ;  and  spent  her 
time  wishing  vain  wishes,  and  trjdng  to  con- 
trive some  way  out  of  her  difficulty  without 
bringing  disgrace  upon  herself  or  losing  her 
character  for  honor  and  truthfulness  among 
her  young  companions.  It  troubled  Gracie  far 
less  to  think  how  she  already  stood  in  the  eyes 
of  God,  than  it  did  to  imagine  how  she  might 
appear  in  the  sight  of  her  earthly  friends  if 
this  thing  were  known. 

There  was  a  small  children's  party  at  Mrs. 
Bradford's.  Gracie  did  not  care  to  go  ;  indeed 
she  would  much  rather  not  have  done  so :  but 
her  mother  had  accepted  for  her,  and  she  had 
no  good  excuse  for  staying  away. 

She  was  more  restless  and  miserable  than 
usual  that  afternoon:  she  set  up  her  opinion 
against  that  of  all  the  rest,  found  fault  with 
her  playmates  in  every  game  that  was  begun, 
was  more  than  usually  sure  that  she  knew 
every  thing  and  could  do  better  than  any  ono 


A   Game  of  Characters.  195 

else,  and,  not  having  her  wits  and  thoughts 
about  her,  miserably  failed  in  all  the  plays  in 
which  she  meant  to  shine. 

"  What  shall  we  play  now  ?  "  asked  Bessie 
at  length,  when  they  had  all  tired  of  some 
romping  game. 

"  Let's  take  a  little  rest,  and  play  '  Charac- 
ters,' "  said  Gracie,  who  was  very  good  in  this, 
having  no  match  among  her  present  playmates 
save  Maggie. 

"  Well,"  said  Maggie,  willing  to  please  her 
if  possible,  although  she  saw  some  objections 
to  the  game  just  now  ;  "  we'll  play  it ;  but  it 
is  rather  hard  for  the  younger  ones,  so  we 
must  take  easy  characters.     Who'll  go  out  ?  " 

"  I  will,"  said  Lily ;  "  but  mind  you  do  take 
an  easy  one.  Somebody  we  know  very  well,  not 
any  history  or  jography  character.  I  don't 
want  to  bother  my  head  about  lesson  people 
when  I'm  playing." 

a  Yery  well,"  said  Maggie  ;  and  Lily  went 
out,  singing  loudly  in  the  hall  that  she  might 
"  be  sure  and  not  hear." 


T96  Jessie^s  Parrot 

"  Let's  take  Cromwell,"  said  Gracie,  always 
anxious,  no  matter  what  her  frame  of  mind,  to 
display  her  knowledge. 

"  No,"  said  Maggie,  "  that's  too  hard  for 
Lily ;  and  she  wants  us  to  take  some  one  we 
know." 

"  I  should  think  any  goose  might  know  about 
Cromwell,"  said  Gracie. 

"  We  did  not  know  about  him  till  a  few 
weeks  ago,"  said  Dora  Johnson.  "  We've 
only  just  had  him  in  our  history,  and  I  don't 
b'lieve  Lily  knows  much  about  him." 

''  Then  take  Lafayette,"  said  Gracie. 
-    "  Lily  means  some  of  the  people  we  have  in 
our  own  lives,"  said  Bessie.     "  Make  haste : 
she'll  be  tired." 

This  was  seconded  by  Lily's  voice  calling 
from  without,  "  Why  don't  you  make  haste  ? 
I  should  think  you  were  choosing  a  hundred 
people." 

"  Let's  take  Flossey,"  said  Belle,  looking  at 
the  dog,  who  had  jumped  upon  a  chair  beside 
Maggie,  where  he  sat  with  a  wise  and  sedate 


A   Game  of  Characters.  197 

air  as  if  he  were  listening  to  all  that  passed, 
and  ready  to  take  his  ^hare  in  the  game. 

This  was  agreed  upon  by  all  but  Gracie,  who 
declared  that  it  was  "  ridiculous  to  choose  a 
dog,"  and  she  had  "  a  great  mind  not  to  play 
the  game  in  such  an  absurd  way." 

Lily  was  called  in  and  proceeded  to  ask  her 
questions. 

"  Male  or  female  ?  "  was  the  first,  beginning 
at  Dora. 

"  Male,"  answered  Dora. 

"  Black  or  white  ?  "  asked  Lily. 

"  Neither,"  said  Belle,  who  was  next  in  turn, 
"  least  he's  not  black  at  all ;  but  he's  some 
white." 

Lily  looked  rather  puzzled  at  this. 

"  And  what  color  besides  is  he  ?  " 

"  Brown,"  answered  Bessie. 

"  A  brown  and  white  man,"  said  Lily.  "  Oh ! 
I  know.     It's  old  black  Peter." 

"  No,  no,  no,"  echoed  around  the  circle. 

"  Not  one  scrap  of  Peter  is  white,"  said 
Mamie  Stone.  •  He's  the  blackest  old  man  I 
ever  saw." 


ipS  yessze's  Parrot. 

"  Part  of  his  eyes  are  white  and  his  teeth 
too,'*  said  Lily,  who  was  generally  pretty  sure 
of  her  ground  when  she  stated  a  fact.  "  Where 
does  he  live  ?  " 

"  In  this  country,"  said  Nellie. 

«  In  this  city  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Maggie. 

"  Is  he  good  or  bad  ?  " 

"  Good,  most  generally,"  answered  Mabel ; 
"  only  sometimes  pretty  mischievous." 

"Oh,"  said  Lily,  light  beginning  to  break 
upon  her.     "Can  he  talk?" 

"  He  tan't  talt,  but  he  tan  bart  pretty  well," 
said  Frankie,  to  whom  the  question  fell. 

"  Oh !  oh !  that's  too  plain,"  cried  one  and 
another  laughing ;  and  Maggie,  thinking  Frankie 
did  not  understand  the  game  well  enough  to  be 
allowed  to  go  out,  gave  a  hint  to  Lily,  but  not 
wishing  to  hurt  her  little  brother's  feelings  took 
refuge  in  the  French  language,  and  said  :  — 

*'  Ne  guessez  pas  a  lui." 

Frankie,  however,  was  too  sharp  for  her ; 
there  was  not  much  that  escaped  him,  and  he 


A   Game  of  Characters,  199 

exclaimed  in  a  very  aggrieved  tone  that  it  was 
"  not  fair,"  and  that  Lily  should  guess  at  him. 

So  Lily  said  "  Flossey"  was  the  character; 
and,  amid  much  laughter,  the  young  gentleman 
betook  himself  to  the  hall  with  a  pompous  air, 
telling  the  little  girls  to  make  haste. 

"  Let's  take  himself,"  said  Bessie,  which 
being  agreed  upon,  Frankie  was  called  back 
almost  before  he  was  well  out  of  the  room. 

"  Is  he  blat  or  white  ?  "  he  asked,  following 
Lily's  example,  and  beginning  as  she  had  done 
at  Dora. 

"  He's  white,"  said  Dora  laughing ;  and,  in 
obedience  to  a  suggestion  from  Maggie  to  help 
him  out,  she  added,  —  "  white,  with  brown  eyes 
and  red  cheeks  and  brown  hair." 

*'  Flossey,"  cried  Frankie  triumphantly. 

*'No,  no  ;  not  Flossey  again,"  said  the  chil- 
dren. 

"  Does  he  have  four  feets  ?  "  asked  the  little 
boy. 

"No,  only  two,"  said  Belle. 

"  Does  he  live  in  the  stable  ?  "  asked  Frankie. 


200  yesste^s  Parrot, 

"  No,  he  lives  in  this  house,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Blackie,"  said  Frankie,  who  was  unable  to 
give  up  the  idea  that  since  it  was  not  Flossey 
it  must  be  the  little  pony  owned  by  his  sisters. 

"  Does  he  eat  hay  ? "  was  his  next  question. 

"  No,"  answered  Nellie,  "  he  eats  fruit  and 
meat  and  bread  and  milk,  and,  oh !  how  he 
does  love  sugar  and  candy ! " 

"Me,"  cried  Frankie,  feeling  that  this  des- 
cription exactly  suited  himself. 

The  character  having  been  guessed  at  Nel- 
lie she  now  went  out,  and  Maggie,  willing  to 
put  Gracie  in  a  good  humor  if  possible,  asked 
her  who  they  should  take  this  time. 

"  Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,"  answered  Gracie 
promptly. 

It  was  not  altogether  probable  that  the 
younger  children  knew  much  of  this  unfor- 
tunate lady,  but  Grade's  choice  was  acceded 
to  and  Nellie  called. 

"  Male  or  female  ?  "  was  of  course  the  first 
question. 

"  Female,"  answered  Dora, 


A  Game  of  Characters,  201 

"  Old  or  young  ?  " 

"Um — m — m,  pretty  old,"  said  Belle; 
"  at  least  she  was  grown  up." 

"  Is  she  alive  now  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Bessie. 

"Where  did  she  live?" 

"  Well,"  said  Lily,  "  she  lived  in  a  good 
many  places.  But  not  in  this  country.  Gene- 
rally in  France  or  Scotland." 

"  Oh,"  said  Nellie  to  whom  this  answer  gave 
an  inkling  of  the  truth ;  but  she  passed  on  to 
the  next. 

"  Was  she  good  or  bad,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Some  think  her  quite  celestial  and  some 
think  her  quite  infernal,"  answered  Maggie 
with  grand  emphasis ;  "  but  on  the  whole  I 
think  she  was  not  either,  only  rather  middling 
like  the  most  of  us." 

Nellie  felt  more  confident  than  ever;  but 
not  caring  to  risk  one  of  her  three  guesses  as 
yet,  she  passed  on.  The  questions  she  put  to 
Mabel  and  Frankie  were  simple  and  very  easily 
answered ;  then  came  Gracie's  turn. 


202  Jessicas  Parrot. 

"  What  was  she  celebrated  for  ?  " 

"  For  cruelty  and  persecuting  people," 
answered  Gracie  confidently  ;  and  Nellie's 
idea  was  at  once  put  to  flight  by  the  reply. 

"  That's  a  mistake,"  said  Dora.  "  You  are 
thinking  of  another  character,  Gracie." 

*'  I'm  not,  either,"  said  Gracie.  "  Don't  I 
know  history  better  than  any  of  you  ?  " 

"  You  don't  know  that^  anyway,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  Gracie,  you  are  wrong.  Slie  was  not 
the  character  you  are  thinking  of,  and  was  not 
celebrated  for  that." 

"  But  she  «^as,"  persisted  Gracie. 

"  Nellie,"  said  Maggie,  "  you  need  not 
guess  by  what  Gracie  has  told  you,  for  she  is 
not  right." 

"  I'll  put  my  question  another  way,"  said 
Nellie.     "  Can  I  ask  Gracie  once  again  ?  " 

All  agreed  and  Nellie  asked, — 

"  Was  she  celebrated  for  her  beauty  and 
her  misfortunes  ?  " 

"  I  shan't  tell  you,"  said  Gracie  snappishly. 
"  If  I  do,  I  shan't  be  believed,  but  they'll  all 


A   Game  of  Characters,  20j 

go  and  contradict  me.  I  suppose  I  know  what 
I  know  ;  and  any  of  you  might  be  proud  if  you 
knew  as  much  history  as  I  do  and  had  kept  the 
head  of  the  class  so  long." 

Gracie  had  for  a  moment  forgotten  how  dis- 
gracefully she  had  lost  her  place  at  the  head 
of  the  history  class,  but  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed her  ill-tempered  speech  brought  it  back 
to  her  and  increased  her  vexation. 

"  You  all  think  you  know  so  much,"  she 
said,  throwing  herself  back  sullenly  in  her 
chair. 

Bessie  had  begged  Lily  to  bear  with  Gracie 
and  not  to  aggravate  her  as  she  seemed  so 
miserable  and  out  of  spirits,  and  Lily  had 
been  very  forbearing ;  at  least,  so  she  thought. 
But  now  her  small  stock  of  patience  was  quite 
exhausted  and  she  exclaimed  vehemently :  — 

"  Gracie,  we  try  to  stand  you ;  we  do  try 
with  all  our  might  and  main  ;  but  you  use  up 
every  bit  of  standing  there  is  in  me  !  " 

This  did  not  mend  matters  in  Gracie's  pres- 
ent state  of  mind,  but  led  to  a  pretty  severe 


204  Jessie's  Parrot » 

quarrel  between  her  and  Lily  which  the  others 
vainly  tried  to  heal,  Lily  being  rather  provok- 
ing, and  Gracie  obstinately  sullen  and  ill-tem- 
pered. 

It  ended  in  a  violent  burst  of  tears  from  the 
latter,  and  a  declaration  that  she  would  go 
home  at  once.  But  this  was  impossible,  since 
it  was  now  evening ;  and  the  children's  sup- 
per-time being  near  at  hand,  Mrs.  Bradford 
could  not  just  then  spare  a  servant  to  go  home 
with  Gracie. 

No  soothing  or  coaxing  proved  of  any  avail, 
nor  did  Lily's  repentance  ;  for  she  was  sorry 
now  that  she  had  been  provoking,  and  would 
readily  have  kissed  and  made  up  if  Gracie 
could  have  been  persuaded  to  do  so. 

Gracie  said  that  she  would  not  stay  where 
Lily  was,  and  went  sulkily  upstairs  to  the 
room  where  Maggie  and  Bessie  slept. 


XI. 


CONFESSION. 


RACIE  expected  and  wished  to  be 
left  to  herself  till  it  was  time  to  go 
home  ;  at  least  she  thought  she  did, 
and  she  had  quite  made  up  her  mind  that  if 
any  one  came  and  begged  her  to  go  down  to 
supper  she  would  steadily  refuse. 

She  stood  there  with  all  manner  of  unhappy 
and  wretched  feelings,  wishing  vain  and  fruit- 
less wishes,  as  she  had  so  often  done  since  she 
had  fallen  into  this  sin, — that  she  had  never 
allowed  Hattie  to  tempt  her  into  doing  what 
she  knew  to  be  wrong  ;  that  grandmamma  had 
never  made  this  plan  or  offered  to  put  a  price 
on  the  different  pieces  of  work ;  that  she  had 


2o6  yessie's  Parrot, 

never  gone  to  the  school,  or  that  Nellie  had 
never  belonged  to  it ;  but  still  she  did  not  think 
of  wishing  that  she  had  not  thought  so  much 
of  herself  or  been  so  verj^  anxious  above  all 
things  to  be  first. 

Poor  Gracie !  Only  those  can  tell  how  un- 
happy she  was  who  have  themselves  so  fallen 
and  so  suffered.  There  was  no  way  out  of  her 
trouble  but  by  confessing  all  the  truth,  and  she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  that. 

She  had  not  closed  the  door  when  she  came 
in,  and  presently  she  heard  a  gentle  foot-fall, 
then  Bessie's  soft  voice,  saying,  ''  Are  you  in 
here,  Gracie  ? " 

There  was  no  light  in  the  room  save  the 
faint  glimmer  of  moonlight  which  came 
through  the  window,  and  as  Gracie  stood  in 
the  shade,  Bessie  did  not  at  first  see  her. 

"Yes,  I'm  here,  but  I  don't  want  any 
supper,  and  I'm  not  coming  down  till  I  go 
home,"  answered  Gracie,  not  as  ungraciously 
as  she  had  intended  to  speak,  for  somehow 
she  could  not  be  disagreeable  to  dear  Bessie, 


Confession,  207 

"  Supper  is  not  quite  ready  yet,  and  you 
shall  have  some  up  here  if  you  had  very  much 
rather  not  come  down,"  said  Bessie  with  a 
coaxing  tone  in  her  voice ;  "  but  you'd  better 
come  down,  Gracie.  They're  all  very  sorry 
for  you  and  don't  think  you  meant  to  be  cross, 
'cause  Nellie  said  she  was  sure  something 
troubled  you  for  a  good  many  days,  or  you 
did  not  feel  well,  and  that  often  made  people 
impatient,  so  we  ought  not  to  be  mad  at  you." 

Gracie  made  no  answer,  but  presently  Bessie 
heard  a  low  sob. 

"  Gracie,  dear,"  she  said,  coming  closer  to 
her  little  friend  and  putting  her  arms  about 
her  neck,  "  something  does  trouble  you, 
doesn't  it  ?  Couldn't  you  tell  me  what  it  is, 
and  let  me  see  if  I  could  comfort  you  ?  Some- 
times it  makes  people  feel  better  to  tell  their 
troubles  and  have  some  one  feel  sorry  for 
them." 

Tiie  caressing  touch,  the  tender  manner, 
the  earnest,  pleading  voice  were  too  much  for 
Gracie,  and,  throwing  herself  down  on  a  chair, 


208  yessie*s  Parrot. 

she  buried  her  face  in  her  arms  and  sobbed 
bitterly. 

Bessie  let  her  cry  for  a  moment,  for  the 
wise  little  woman  knew  that  tears  often  do 
one  good  for  a  while,  and  contented  herself 
with  giving  soft  touches  to  Grade's  hair  and 
neck  to  let  her  know  she  was  still  beside  her 
and  ready  to  give  her  her  sympathy. 

At  last  Gracie  raised  her  head  and  said 
brokenly,  "  Oh,  Bessie,  I  am  so  bad  !  I  am  so 
wicked ! " 

"  I  don't  think  being  rather  —  rather  — 
well,  rather  cross,  is  so  very  wicked^''  said 
Bessie,  hesitating  to  give  a  hard  name  to 
Grade's  ill-temper,  "  and  if  you  are  sorry  now 
and  will  come  downstairs,  well  all  be  very 
glad  to  see  you." 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  that,"  sobbed  Grade.  ''  Bessie, 
if  you  knew  what  I've  done,  you'd  hate  me, 
I  know  you  would." 

"  No,  I  wouldn't,"  said  Bessie.  "  I'd  never 
hate  you.  Grade.  I'd  only  be  sorry  for  you 
and  try  to  help  you." 


Confession,  209 

* 

"You  can't  help  me.  No  one  can  help 
me,"  said  Gracie,  in  a  fresh  paroxysm  of 
distress. 

"  Can't  your  mamma  ?  Mammas  generally 
can,"  said  Bessie. 

"  No,  not  even  mamma,"  answered  Gracie. 
"  Oh,  Bessie,  I  do  feel  as  if  it  would  be  a  kind 
of  relief  to  tell  you ;  but  you'd  hate  me,  you 
couldn't  help  it;  and  so  would  every  one 
else." 

"  Every  one  else  need  not  know  it  because 
you  tell  me,"  said  Bessie.  "  Tell  Jesus,  and 
ask  Him  to  help  you,  Gracie." 

"  Even  He  can't,"  said  Gracie ;  "  at  least  — 
at  least  —  not  unless  I  tell  other  people  who 
ought  to  know  it." 

"Do  you  mean  He  would  want  you  to  tell 
it?" 

"  Yes,  I  s'pose  so,"  almost  whispered  Gracie. 

Bessie  considered  a  moment.     That  Gracie 

was  full  of  a  vain,  foolish  pride  and  self-conceit, 

she  knew;  also  that  she  was  not  the  Gracie 

of  a  year  or  two  since ;  but  that  she  would 

14 


4IO  yessie's  Parrot, 

wrong  any  one  she  never  dreamed,  and  she 
could  not  imagine  any  cause  for  this  great 
distress. 

"  Gracie,"  she  said,  "  I  think  hy  what 
you  say  that  you  must  have  done  something  to 
me.  I  can't  think  what  it  can  be  ;  but  I  prom- 
ise not  to  be  angry.  I  will  be  friends  with 
you  all  the  same." 

'•  It  was  not  you  ;  no,  it  was  not  you  ;  but, 
Bessie,  it  was  such  a  dreadful  thing  and  so 
mean  that  you  never  can  bear  me  after  you 
know  it.     You  are  so  very  true  yourself." 

"  Have  you  told  a  story  ?  "  asked  Bessie  in 
a  troubled  voice. 

"  Not  told  a  story,  but  I  acted  one,"  sobbed 
Gracie.  "  0  Bessie  !  sit  down  here  and  let 
me  tell  you.  I  can't  keep  it  in  any  longer. 
Maybe  you'll  tell  me  what  to  do ;  but  I  know 
what  you'll  say,  and  I  can't  do  that.'' 

Bessie  did  as  she  was  requested,  and,  in  as 
few  whispered  words  as  possible,  Gracie  poured 
her  wretched  story  into  her  ears. 

Bessie  sprang  to    her  feet,   and   her   arms 


Confession,  21 1 

wliich  she  had  clasped  about  Grade's  neck 
fell  away  from  it.  It  was  as  the  latter  had 
feared  ;  this  was  so  much  worse  than  any  thing 
Bessie  had  expected,  she  was  herself  so  truth- 
ful and  upright,  that  her  whole  soul  was  filled 
with  horror  and  dismay.  No  wonder  that 
Gracie  was  distressed.  This  was  indeed 
dreadful. 

"  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it,"  said  Gracie,  bury- 
ing her  face  again.  "  I  knew  you  never  could 
bear  me  again.  It  seemed  as  if  I  couldn't 
help  telling  you,  Bessie  ;  but  you  never,  never 
will  speak  to  me  again.  I  wish  —  I  wish  — 
oh,  I  almost  wish  I  was  an  orphan  and  had  no 
one  to  care  for  me,  so  I  could  wish  I  was  dead, 
only  I'm  too  bad  to  go  to  God." 

Sympathy  and  pity  were  regaining  their 
place  in  Bessie's  heart  in  spite  of  her  horror 
and  indignation  at  what  Gracie  had  done,  and 
once  more  she  sat  down  beside  her  and  tried  to 
soothe  and  comfort. 

She  succeeded  in  part  at  least.  Grade's  sobs 
grew  less  violent,  and  she  let  Bessie  persuade 


212  yessie's  Parrot. 

her  to  raise  her  head.  Then  they  sat  side  by 
side,  Bessie  holding  her  hand. 

"  What  would  you  do,  Bessie  ?  "  asked  Grade. 
"  I  know  I  ought  to  tell,  but  I  don't  see  how  I 
can.  It  will  be  such  a  disgrace,  and  all  the 
girls  will  have  to  know,  and  IVe  made  such  a 
fuss  about  myself,  and  always  thought  I  never 
could  do  any  thing  that  was  very  bad.  And 
now  this." 

And  now  this  ! 

Yes,  after  all  her  boasting,  after  all  her 
self-confidence,  her  belief  that  she  could  not 
and  would  not  fall  into  greater  sin  through  her 
own  conceit  and  vanity. 

Bessie  knew  all  this ;  knew  how  confideiit 
Gracie  had  been  in  her  own  strength ;  knew 
what  a  bitter  shame  and  mortification  it  must 
be  to  have  this  known ;  knew  that  it  must  be  long 
before  she  could  regain  the  trust  and  respect  of 
her  schoolmates  after  this  thing  should  once  be 
told.  During  the  last  few  months  Gracie  had 
lost  much  of  the  liking  and  affection  of  her 
little  friends ;  but  not  one  among  them  would 


Confession,  213 

have  believed  her  capable  of  deliberate  deceit 
or  of  that  which  was  not  strictly  honest. 

Ah  !  it  was  a  great  and  terrible  fall.  Bessie 
felt  this  as  well  as  Gracie. 

But  she  knew  also  that  there  was  but  one 
thing  for  Gracie  to  do  ;  but  one  way  in  which 
she  could  have  any  peace  or  comfort  once 
more. 

Bessie  was  not  the  child  for  Gracie  to  put 
confidence  in,  if  she  expected  advice  that  was 
not  plain  and  straightforward. 

"  What  %hall  I  do,  Bessie  ?  "  she  repeated. 

"  I  think  you'll  have  to  tell,  dear,"  said  the 
pitying  little  voice  beside  her. 

Gracie  actually  shrank  in  a  kind  of  terror 
at  the  thought ;  and  yet  she  had  known  that 
this  was  what  Bessie  would  say. 

"  Oh !  I  can't,  I  can't ;  I  never  can,"  she 
moaned. 

"  But,  Gracie,  dear,"  said  the  little  monitrcss, 
"  I  don't  think  you  will  ever  feel  happy  and 
comfortable  again  till  you  do ;  and  Jesus  is 
displeased  with  you  all  the  time  till  you  do  it. 


214  Jessie^s  Parrot. 

If  you  told  about  it  and  tried  to  make  it  up  to 
Nellie,  then  He  would  be  pleased  with  you 
again.  And  then  you  could  have  comfort  in 
that  even  if  people  were  rather  cross  to  you 
about  it.  And,  Gracie,  Maggie  and  I  will  not 
be  offended  with  you.  I  know  Maggie  wiU 
not ;  and  we'll  coax  the  other  girls  not  to  tease 
you  or  be  unkind  to  you  about  it." 

"  Don't  you  think  it  was  so  very  wicked  in 
me  then  ?  "  asked  Gracie.  "  0  Bessie  !  you 
are  such  a  good  child,  I  don't  believe  you  ever 
have  wicked  thoughts.  You  don't  know  how 
hard  it  is  sometimes  not  to  do  wrong  when 
you  want  to  do  it  very  much,  —  when  a 
very,  very  great  temptation  comes,  like  this." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  think  I  do,  Gracie. 
And  you  are  very  much  mistaken  when  you 
say  I  never  have  naughty  thoughts.  I  have 
them  very  often,  and  the  only  way  I  can  make 
them  go  is,  to  ask  Jesus  to  help  me,  and  to 
keep  asking  Him  till  they  do  go,  and  the  temp- 
tation too.  Perhaps,  when  you  had  the  temp- 
tation to  do  this  you  did  not  remember  to  ask 


Confession,  2i< 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  said  Gracie.  "  But,  Bes- 
sie, it  never  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  do  a 
thing  that  was  not  quite  true  and  honest.  And 
I  suppose  it  has  come  because  I  thought  too 
much  of  myself  and  wanted  too  much  to  have 
my  work  the  best.  It  was  not  that  I  cared 
about  the  money,  for  you  know  that  was  for 
Jessie  and  her  grandfather ;  but  I  wanted 
every  one  to  say  mine  was  the  best ;  and  it 
made  me  so  mad  that  any  one  should  say 
Nellie's  was  better  than  mine.  If  I  had  not 
cared  so  very  much,  Hattie  would  not  have  per- 
suaded me,  for  I  did  know  it  was  horribly 
mean.  You  never  had  a  temptation  like  this, 
Bessie." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Bessie  slowly.  "  I 
think  I  once  had  one  something  like  it.  Don't 
you  remember,  Gracie,  that  time  you  lost  your 
prize  composition  and  we  found  it  in  the 
drawer  of  the  hall-table  ?  " 

''  Yes,"  answered  Gracie,  "  and  how  cross 
I  was  about  it,  and  how  hateful  to  you  and 
Maggie.'* 


2x6  yessie^s  Parrot. 

"  Well,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  had  a  very  hard 
temptation  that  time.  I  found  the  composi- 
tion first,  and  I  wanted  to  leave  it  there  and 
not  tell  any  one,  'cause  I  wanted  Maggie  to 
have  the  prize  so  much ;  and  at  first  it  did  not 
seem  so  very  wrong  to  me,  and  I  tried  to  think 
I  ought  not  to  tell,  because  then  my  own 
Maggie  could  have  the  prize ;  but  I  did  not 
feel  sure  about  it,  so  I  asked  Jesus  to  let  me 
see  what  I  ought  to  do,  and  then  I  saw  it 
quite  plain,  and  knew  I  must  take  the  composi- 
tion to  you.  But  it  was  a  dreadful  temptation, 
Gracie." 

"  Yes,"  said  Gracie  with  a  sigh,  feeling 
deeply  the  difference  between  herself  and  her 
dear  little  playmate  who  had  so  bravely 
resisted  temptation.  For  she  knew  how  very 
anxious  Bessie  had  been  that  Maggie  should 
gain  the  prize. 

"  But  you  did  not  do  the  thing  you  were 
tempted  to  do,"  she  said.  "  What  would  you 
do  if  you  had,  Bessie  ?  " 

"  I  should  go  right  away  and  tell  my  mam> 


Confession.  217 

ma ;  and  perhaps  she  could  find  some  way  to 
help  me  out  of  it,"  said  Bessie.  "  Anyway, 
she  ought  to  know,  and  she  will  tell  you  what 
you  ought  to  do." 

"  Oh,  it  will  make  mamma  feel  dreadfully," 
said  Gracie.  "  She  was  always  telling  me  I 
would  fall  into  trouble  some  day  because  I 
thought  too  much  of  myself;  but,  oh,  dear! 
she  never  could  have  believed  I  would  do  this. 
Wouldn't  you  feel  awfully,  Bessie,  if  you  had 
done  it  ? " 

Yes,  indeed.  Bessie  felt  that  she  should ; 
it  almost  seemed  to  her  that  she  should  die  if 
she  had  such  a  weight  on  her  mind  and 
conscience,  and  she  felt  for  Gracie  most 
deeply. 

But  still  she  knew  that  Gracie  would  never 
feel  right  again  till  she  had  made  confession, 
and  she  once  more  urged  it  upon  her ;  confes- 
sion to  God  and  man ;  and  at  last  Gracio 
promised. 

Promised  with  many  tears  and  sobs  ;  but 
that  promise  once  given,  she  became  in  haste 


2i8  Jessies  Parrot, 

to  have  it  over  and  to  go  home  to  her  m^mma 
at  once. 

"  Ask  your  mamma  to  let  me  go  home  as 
soon  as  she  can,  Bessie,"  she  pleaded.  "  Tell 
her  I  do  not  feel  well,  for  I  do  not  really. 
My  head  aches  and  I  feel  all  shaky,  as  if  I 
could  not  hold  still ;  and  I  don't  want  to  see 
any  one  down  stairs  again  or  to  have  any 
supper." 

Bessie  was  about  to  leave  her  to  do  as  she 
was  asked,  when  Mrs.  Bradford  came  in. 

''  Gracie  and  Bessie,"  she  said,  "  are  you 
here  ?  You  were  so  long  in  coming  that  I 
feared  something  was  wrong.  Will  you  not 
come  down  and  have  some  supper,  Gracie  ?  " 

Gracie  did  not  speak,  but  held  fast  to 
Bessie's   hand. 

"  Mamma,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  Gracie  does 
not  feel  well,  and  she  would  like  to  go  home  as 
soon  as  you  could  send  her.  She's  quite 
trembling,  mamma.     I  feel  her." 

Mrs.  Bradford  took  Grade's  hand  in  hers 
and  found  that  it  was  indeed  cold  and  trem- 


Confession,  219 

bling,  while  her  temples  were  hot  and  throb- 
bing ;  for  over-excitement  and  worry  had  made 
her  really  ill,  and  the  lady  saw  that  she  was 
more  fit  for  bed  than  for  the  supper-room. 

She  told  Gracie  she  should  go  home  immedi- 
ately, and  putting  on  her  hat  led  her  down 
stairs,  and  calling  Mr.  Bradford,  begged  him 
to  take  the  poor  little  girl  home  and  explain 
matters  to  her  mamma. 

Gracie  clung  to  Bessie  for  a  good-night  kiss, 
whispering,  "  I  will  do  it,  Bessie ;  no  matter 
what  comes  after,  I  will  do  it." 

Mr.  Bradford  took  her  home,  —  it  was  not 
far  from  his  house,  — talking  cheerfully  by  the 
way  and  trying  to  keep  her  amused  ;  but, 
though  Gracie  felt  he  was  kind,  she  hardly 
knew  what  he  was  saying,  her  mind  was  so 
taken  up  with  the  thought  of  the  dreadful 
secret  she  had  to  confess. 

Mrs.  Howard  was  startled,  as  was  only 
natural,  to  see  her  little  girl  coming  home  so 
much  before  she  had  expected  her;  and  Mr. 
Bradford's  assurance  that  he  did  not   think 


220  yessie's  Parrot. 

there  was  much  wrong  with  Gracie,  and  that 
she  would  be  well  after  a  good  night's  sleep, 
did  not  quiet  her  fears,  especially  when  she 
looked  in  Grade's  face. 

She  quickly  undressed  her  and  put  her  to 
bed  ;  but,  longing  as  Gracie  was  to  have  her 
confession  over,  she  could  not  tell  it  while  the 
nurse  was  in  the  room ;  and  it  was  not  until 
she  was  safely  in  bed,  and  the  woman  sent  to 
prepare  some  medicine,  that  she  gave  vent  to 
the  tears  she  had  managed  to  keep  back  before 
her. 

"  There,  there,  my  darling,"  said  her  mother 
soothingly.  "  You  will  be  better  soon.  Do 
not  be  frightened  ;  this  is  only  a  little  nervous- 
ness." 

"  0  mamma,  mamma  !  "  cried  poor  Gracie  ; 
"you  ought  not  to  be  so  kind  to  me.  You 
don't  know  how  bad,  how  very  bad  I  am." 

"  Is  there  any  thing  especially  wrong  just 
now,  Gracie?"  asked  her  mother  gently. 

"Yes,  mamma;  oh,  yes.  I  have  —  T  have 
—  put  your  head  closer,  mamma,  and  let  me 


Confession,  221 

whisper;"  and  then,  with  her  face  hidden 
against  her  mother's  shoulder,  came  the  con- 
fession, made  with  many  bitter  tears  and 
sobs. 

Mrs.  Howard  was  greatly  shocked ;  she 
could  hardly  speak  when  she  heard  all. 

*'  Shall  you  ever  be  able  to  forgive  me, 
mamma  ?  "  sobbed  Gracie.  ''  I  know,  I  know 
you  think  me  perfectly  dreadful,  but  if  you 
could  try  me  just  this  once,  and  see  if  I  ever 
do  such  a  thing  again.  Indeed,  I  don't  think 
I  could.  I  know  I  am  not  too  good  to  do  it, 
as  I  thought  I  was  before ;  but  I  have  felt  so 
dreadfully  CA^er  since  I  did  it,  I  don't  think  I 
could  ever  punish  myself  so  again." 

"  I  can  believe  that  you  have  been  very 
unhappy,  my  child,"  said  her  mother ;  "  indeed 
I  have  seen  it,  though  I  did  not  know  the 
cause.  But  you  have  need  to  ask  a  higher 
forgiveness  than  mine." 

"I  will,  mamma,"  said  Gracie  ;  "  but  —  but 
—  I  suppose  Nellie  and  the  other  children 
^ust  be  told  ?  " 


222  Jessicas  Parrot. 

"  I  fear  so,  Gracie,"  said  her  mother. 
"  Nellie  must  be  righted  and  have  her  own 
mat  again,  and  I  do  not  see  how  we  are  to 
avoid  having  the  rest  of  the  children  hear  this 
terrible  thing  also.  I  must  see  Miss  Ash  ton 
in  the  morning  and  talk  it  over  with  her,  and 
we  will  arrange  what  is  best  to  be  done.  But 
now  jou  must  try  to  be  quiet  and  go  to  sleep. 
You  are  over-excited  and  will  be  really  ill,  so 
I  can  allow  you  to  talk  no  more.  But  before 
you  sleep,  my  child,  make  your  peace  with  your 
Father  in  heaven,  and  ask  Him  to  help  you 
to  bear  the  punishment  you  have  brought  upon 
yourself  by  your  naughty  pride  and  ambi- 
tion." 

Gracie  obeyed  her  mother  as  well  as  she 
was  able ;  and,  truly  repentant,  we  may  hope, 
at  last  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep. 


^;^g^ 


XII. 

THE  FAIR. 


jHE  next  day  was  Saturday,  when  there 
was  no  school,  so  that  Mrs.  Howard 
was  able  to  see  Miss  Ashton  and  tell 
her  the  sad  story,  quite  early  in  the  morning. 
Miss  Ashton  was  much  grieved  and  sur- 
prised ;  for,  as  she  told  Mrs.  Howard,  although 
she  had  known  that  Grade's  high  thoughts  of 
herself  and  belief  that  she  was  wiser  and 
better  than  any  of  her  companions  often  led 
her  into  exaggeration,  yet  she  could  not  have 
believed  her  capable  of  any  thing  that  was 
really  mean  and  dishonorable. 

She  was  distressed,  too,  at  the  thought  of  the 
exposure  and  mortification  which  must  follow ; 


224  yesste^s  Parrot. 

for  it  seemed  necessary,  for  Nellie's  sake,  that 
not  only  Grandmamma  Howard,  but  the  whole 
school  should  know  the  truth.  She  and  Mrs. 
Howard  talked  it  all  over  for  some  time,  but 
neitlier  of  the  two  ladies  saw  any  way  to  avoid 
this  disgrace  for  Glracie.  They  would  willingly 
have  spared  her  the  punishment,  if  possible, 
for  she  had  already  suffered  severely,  and  she 
seemed  so  truly  humble  and  repentant  that  her 
mother  did  not  believe  there  was  much  fear 
she  would  again  fall  into  this  sin. 

Mrs.  Howard  had  thought  last  night  that 
perhaps  she  ought  to  deprive  Gracie  of  any 
share  in  the  fair ;  but  that  must  make  her 
disgrace  very  well  known,  and  now  she  hoped 
that  there  was  no  need  of  further  punishment 
to  make  her  see  and  feel  her  great  fault. 

And  now  Grandmamma  Howard  must  be 
seen  and  told  the  sad  story.  Mrs.  Howard 
Knew  that  she  would  be  much  distressed  that 
her  kind  plan  should  turn  out  so  badly. 
Neither  Grade's  mamma  nor  Miss  Ashton  had 
quite   approved  of   that  plan;    especially  on 


The  Fair,  2^5 

Grade's  account,  but  thej  could  not  well  say 
so  and  cross  the  good  old  lady. 

It  was  as  they  had  feared.  Grandmamma 
"was  very  much  grieved  and  disturbed  to  know 
that  what  she  had  intended  to  be  a  help  and  a 
kindness,  had  only  proved  a  source  of  trouble, 
and  an  encouragement  to  Gracie's  besetting 
sin. 

There  yet  remained  to  Mrs.  Howard  the 
still  more  painful  task  of  telling  Nellie  how 
she  had  been  wronged.  She  would  have 
thought  it  right  to  make  Gracie  do  this  her 
self,  had  it  not  been  that  the  child  was  really 
ill  that  morning,  and  in  no  state  for  further 
excitement ;  and  it  was  not  just  to  Nellie  to 
put  off  the  confession  any  longer. 

Nellie  was  filled  with  amazement.  Much  as 
she  had  wondered  over  the  unfortunate  spot 
upon  the  mat  she  supposed  to  be  hers,  she  had 
never  dreamed  of  a  thing  like  this,  nor  had 
she  the  least  suspicion  of  the  truth.  Indeed, 
how  should  she  ? 

She  was  a  quiet  child,  with  a  more  wise  and 
15 


226  yessze's  Parrot. 

thoughtful  little  head  than  those  who  did  not 
know  her  well  would  have  given  her  credit 
for;  but  words  did  not  come  to  her  very 
readily,  and,  after  the  first  surprise  was  over, 
she  only  said  to  Mrs.  Howard,  with  the  tears 
in  her  eyes,  — 

"  Please  tell  Gracie  I  am  not  angry  with 
her,  and  hope  she  will  be  friends  with  me 
once  more.  Let's  try  not  to  think  about  it 
any  more  than  we  can  help;  will  you,  Mrs. 
Howard  ? " 

Generous,  forgiving  Nellie  !  How  ashamed 
Gracie  felt  when  her  mother  told  her  this,  and 
she  contrasted  Nellie's  conduct  with  her  own. 

She  lay  upon  her  little  bed  that  afternoon, 
feeling  wretched  both  in  mind  and  body, 
though  it  was  a  relief  to  remember  that  she 
had  confessed  all  to  mamma,  and  that  she  had 
set  her  face  toward  the  right  way  once  more, 
when  Mrs.  Howard  came  in  bringing  Nellie 
with  her. 

Poor  Gracie  gave  a  low  sob,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands  in  utter  sliame  and  di&- 


The  Fair,  227 

tress,  feeling  as  if  she  could  not  bear  to  have 
Nellie  look  at  her. 

But  in  a  moment  Nellie  was  beside  her, 
saying,— 

"  Don't,  Grade  ;  please  don't.  You  needn't 
feel  so  very  badly  about  it  now.  I  don't  care 
much,  and  we'll  make  it  all  up." 

"  Oh,  Nellie,  Nellie !  I  don't  deserve  you  to 
be  so  kind  to  me,"  sobbed  Gracie.  "  I  was 
so  hateful  to  you  and  so  jealous,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  1  could  not  bear  to  have  you  go  before 
me  in  any  thing.  I  know  I've  been  just  too 
hateful  to  you." 

"  Well,  never  mind  now,"  said  Nellie. 

Mrs.  Howard  had  gone  out  and  left  the  two 
children  together. 

"  I  can't  help  minding,"  said  Gracie  ;  "  and, 
only  think,  Nellie,  all  the  other  girls  in  the 
school  will  have  to  know,  and  it  will  shame 
me  almost  to  death.  I  hope,  I  hope  mamma 
will  never  make  me  go  back  to  school,  and  I 
mean  to  stay  away  from  the  fair,  any  way." 

"  That  is  what  I  came  to  see  you  about," 


228  Jessicas  Parrot, 

said  Nellie.  ''  The  girls  need  not  know, 
Gracie.  You  see  my  —  your  ^- the  mat  with 
the  ink-spot  on  it  is  nearly  finished  now,  so  I 
have  done  about  as  much  work  on  one  as  on  the 
other.  And  I  don't  care  so  very  much  about 
having  mine  called  the  best,  for  the  money 
will  do  Jessie  and  her  grandfather  just  as 
much  good,  no  matter  who  earns  it.  So  if 
each  of  us  finishes  the  one  she  has  now,  it 
will  be  all  the  same,  and  the  rest  of  the 
children  need  never  know  it.  I  am  sure, 
Gracie,  I  should  feel  just  as  you  do,  and  never 
want  to  come  back  to  school  again  or  see  any 
of  our  class  if  I  had  done  this,  and  I  know 
just  how  badly  you  must  feel.  So  I  thought 
about  it,  and  it  seemed  to  me  it  would  come 
right  again  if  we  just  went  on  with  the  work 
as  if  this  had  not  been  found  out ;  I  mean  if 
you  had  not  told.  I'd  rather  no  one  would 
know  it  but  just  those  who  know  now.  Don't 
you  think  we  could  arrange  it  so,  Gracie  ? 
Your  mother  gave  me  leave  to  tell  you  this, 
and  says  she  would  be  very  glad  for  you  if  it 


The  Fair,  229 

can  be  done,  and  she  thinks  Miss  Ashton  will 
be  wiUing." 

To  hear  the  earnest,  wistful  voice  one  might 
have  supposed  that  generous,  great-hearted 
Nellie  was  pleading  for  some  great  boon  for 
herself. 

But  she  could  not  tell  all  that  Gracie  felt. 
No,  indeed ;  she  did  not  know  what  coals  of 
fire  she  was  heaping  on  her  head ;  how  per- 
fectly humbled  and  remorseful  she  felt  as  she 
remembered  all  the  hard  thoughts  she  had 
cherished  toward  her ;  the  unkind  words  and 
unjust  actions  of  which  she  had  been  guilty ; 
all  forgotten  now,  it  seemed,  by  Nellie,  who 
was  only  anxious  to  make  the  path  of  repent- 
ance as  easy  as  possible  to  her,  and  to  avoid 
all  unnecessary  shame  and  exposure  to  the  one 
who  had  so  greatly  injured  her. 

With  many  sobs  and  broken  words  she  told 
Nellie  all  that  was  in  her  heart,  beseeching 
her  forgiveness,  and  thanking  her  over  and 
over  for  her  consideration  and  sweet  thought- 
fulness  ;  not  that  she  put  it  in  just  such  words, 


230  yesste's  Parrot. 

but  in  those  that  were  very  simple  and  very 
touching  to  Nellie. 

So  peace  was  made  between  them,  —  a  peace 
that  was  sure  to  be  lasting  and  true  where 
there  was  such  sincere  repentance  on  one  side, 
such  good  will  and  hearty  forgiveness  on  the 
other. 

Grandmamma  Howard  was  only  too  glad 
on  Grade's  account  to  accept  Nellie's  generous 
proposal. 

Miss  Ashton  also  agreed  that  the  matter 
should  go  no  further,  and  so  it  was  arranged, 
and  further  disgrace  to  Gracie  avoided,  al- 
though the  weight  of  shame  and  remorse  was 
not  readily  lifted  from  her  heart,  and  she  felt 
as  if  her  schoolmates  must  know  her  secret 
and  that  she  dared  scarcely  look  them  in  the 
face. 

They  all  wondered  at  the  new  humility  and 
modesty  which  she  now  began  to  show ;  but 
the  change  was  an  agreeable  one,  and  drew 
forth  no  unkind  remarks. 

A  prettier  sight  than  Miss  Ashton's  garden 


The  Fair,  231 

and  piazza  on  that  lovely  June  afternoon  when 
the  long-talked -of  fair  took  place,  would  have 
been  hard  to  find.  Kind  friends  had  decked 
the  spot  tastefully ;  flowers  were  everywhere 
in  abundance ;  the  tables  conveniently  and 
becomingly  arranged ;  and  the  display  of  arti- 
cles upon  them  was  not  only  tempting,  but 
such  as  had  been  manufactured  by  the  children 
did  them  wonderful  credit.  Flags,  ribbons, 
wreaths,  and  festoons,  all  joined  to  make  the 
scene  gay ;  and  in  and  out,  among  and  below 
them  flitted  the  white-robed  "  little  sunbeams," 
who  lent  the  fairest  life  and  brightness  to  the 
scene. 

'•  Sunbeams  "  they  all  were  that  day,  indeed. 
No  cloud  appeared  to  darken  their  happiness, 
no  ill-temper,  jealousy,  or  desire  to  outvie  one 
another  was  heard  or  seen.  Even  Gracie  and 
Hattie,  who  were  each  rather  oppressed  with 
the  sense  of  past  naughtiness,  and  the  feeling 
of  what  the  others  would  say  and  think  if  they 
knew  all,  could  not  but  be  bright  and  gay 
amid  this  pleasant  companionship. 


232  yessie^s  Parrot. 

Grade  had  told  Hattie  that  she  had  con- 
fessed her  sin  to  her  mother,  and  the  latter 
knew  that  some  share  of  blame  must  have 
fallen  to  her ;  so,  although  she  did  not  look 
upon  it  in  as  serious  a  light  as  Gracie  did,  she 
had  an  uncomfortable  and  conscious  feeling. 
Miss  Ashton  had  talked  to  her  more  seriously 
than  she  had  ever  done  before,  and  had  also 
informed  her  parents  of  what  had  taken  place, 
telling  them  that  she  did  not  wish  to  disgrace 
Hattie,  and  so,  as  it  was  near  the  close  of 
school,  she  would  not  ask  them  to  remove  her 
now ;  but  that  she  could  not  take  her  back  in 
the  fall.  Hattie's  utter  disregard  of  truth  had 
already  brought  too  much  trouble  into  her 
little  flock  for  her  to  risk  any  further  mischief 
from  that  source. 

Hattie's  parents  had  been  much  mortified 
and  displeased,  and  the  child  herself  had  been 
severely  punished ;  but  I  doubt  if  the  punish- 
ment had  been  altogether  just ;  for  how  was 
the  child  who  saw  equivocation  and  deceit  used 
at  home  as   a  means  of   family  government 


The  Fair,  233 

when  convenience  demanded  it,  to  learn  the 
vahie  of  the  jewel  thus  sullied,  or  to  judge  of 
the  line  where  it  was  believed  that  falsehood 
must  stop  and  truth  and  uprightness  begin  ? 

As  for  generous  Nellie,  she  seemed  to  have 
no  recollection  of  what  had  passed,  unless  it 
was  in  the  new  and  caressing  tenderness  of 
her  manner  toward  Gracie  ;  not  a  patronizing 
manner,  but  one  full  of  encouragement  and 
helpfulness. 

The  other  children  wondered  not  only  at 
Gracie's  new  gentleness  and  modesty,  but  also 
at  the  sudden  intimacy  which  seemed  to  have 
sprung  up  between  these  two. 

"Maybe,"  said  Lily  privately,  "it  is  because 
Gracie  is  learning  to  think  better  of  her- 
self" —  Avhich  was  just  the  opposite  from  what 
Lily  meant — "  and  Nellie's  trying  to  help  her." 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  perhaps  Gracie  is 
learning  it  is  '  never  too  late  to  mend,'  which 
would  make  her  much  more  agreeable,  and 
other  people  would  think  more  of  her.  I  do 
think  she  is  improved." 


234  yessiVs  Parrot, 

Maggie  had  yielded  not  alone  to  the  persua- 
sions of  Miss  Ashton,  but  also  to  an  earnest 
appeal  from  Gracie,  and  accepted  once  more 
the  title  of  Queen.  And  very  well  she  became 
it,  standing  in  front  of  her  throne  —  which 
she  could  not  be  persuaded  to  occupy — within 
the  pretty  bower  into  which  one  end  of  the 
piazza  had  been  turned,  according  to  her  ideas. 
Bessie,  Belle,  and  Lily  were  her  ''  maids  of 
honor,"  and  helped  her  to  sell  the  bouquets 
and  baskets  of  flowers  with  which  she  was 
bountifully  supplied  ;  and  they  drove  a  thriving 
trade ;  for  so  many  sweet  smiles,  bright  looks, 
and  winning  words  went  with  the  flowers  that 
the  stock  within  the  "  Queen's  Bower "  was 
much  in  demand.  She  had  her  band  of  music 
too,  for  half  a  dozen  canary-birds  hung  within 
and  around  the  bower,  and,  excited  by  the 
laughter  and  chatter  about  them,  seemed  to  try 
which  could  sing  the  loudest  and  sweetest. 

Jessie's  parrot  was  on  exhibition,  lent  by 
his  present  owner  for  the  occasion,  down  in 
the  old  summer-house  at  the  end  of  the  gar- 


The  Fair,  235 

den,  where  Jessie  herself  took  the  ten  cents 
admission  fee,  and  made  him  display  all  his 
accomplishments. 

k  nd  the  Doll !  She  must  have  a  capital 
letter  to  do  justice  to  her  perfections.  Of  all 
the  dolls  that  ever  were  seen  or  heard  or 
thought  of,  that  doll  surely  took  the  lead.  It 
would  be  of  no  use  for  me  to  describe  her  or 
her  toilet,  for  if  you  should  ever  see  her, 
you  would  surely  tell  me  that  I  had  not  told 
one  half. 

It  was  nearly  the  hour  at  which  the  fair  wag 
"  to  begin,"  and  the  children  were  all  gathered 
about  the  table  on  which  she  was  displayed, 
when  there  came  a  ring  at  the  front  door-bell. 

Away  fluttered  every  little  saleswoman  to 
her  appointed  stand,  hoping  that  this  might  be 
the  first  customer. 

And  so  it  proved  ;  for  it  was  no  less  a  person 
than  old  Mrs.  Howard,  who  had  purposely 
timed  her  arrival  so  that  she  might  be  thero 
before  any  other  person. 

"  Well,  my  dears,"  she  said,  looking  round 


236  yesste's  Parrot, 

upon  the  smiling  young  faces  about  her,  "  this 
is  a  pretty  sight.  And,  industrious  as  I  know 
you  have  been,  and  kind  as  your  friends  have 
been,  I  should  hardly  have  thought  it  possible 
that  you  should  have  made  such  a  fine  show 
on  your  tables.  But  you  know  I  have  some 
especial  business  with  you,  and  I  have  come 
early  that  we  may  have  it  over  before  the  rush 
begins." 

This  was  very  encouraging.  Mrs.  Howard 
thought  it  probable  they  would  have  "  a  rush  " 
of  customers,  and  who  should  know  better 
than  she  ? 

"  You  remember  I  offered  six  prizes  for 
different  articles  to  be  worked  for  me,"  con- 
tinued the  old  lady,  "  but  there  are  only  four 
finished,  as  you  know.  My  little  grand- 
daughter, Gracie,  felt  that  she  had  not 
displayed  a  proper  spirit  about  them,  and 
she  decided  not  to  finish  hers  for  the  fair, 
but  to  leave  it  and  complete  it  for  me  after- 
wards." 

This   had  been  Grade's   own   proposal    to 


The  Fair.  237 

her  mother  and  grandmother,  and  they  had 
allowed  her  to  have  her  own  way,  thinking 
that  this  willingness  to  put  herself  behind  the 
others,  and  to  give  up  even  the  show  of  strife 
with  Nellie,  told  of  a  spirit  of  true  repentance, 
as  indeed  it  did.  When  the  other  children 
had  asked  with  much  surprise  where  her  mat 
was,  she  had  answered  quietly  that  she  could 
not  finish  it.  This  had  not  proved  any  loss 
to  the  fair,  because  the  time  she  would  have 
devoted  to  the  mat  had  been  given  to  other 
articles. 

"  Here,  then,"  continued  Mrs.  How^ard,  "  are 
two  toilet  sets  and  two  mats  for  me  to  judge 
between.  Of  the  latter,  the  one  Nellie  Ran- 
som brings  is  certainly  the  best  in  point  of 
work  ;  but  it  has  unfortunately  received  a  bad 
ink-stain.  Now  those  of  us  wdio  know  Nellie 
are  very  sure  that  this  has  not  come  through 
any  neglect  or  carelessness  of  her  own,  and 
since  she  did  not  do  it  herself  it  seems  hard 
that  she  should  suffer  for  it.  I  should  be  quite 
willing  to  overlook  it,  for  this  is  really  the 


238  yessie's  Parrot, 

best  piece  of  work  among  the  four ;  but  I 
cannot  do  so  unless  the  others  are  willing. 
Those  among  you  who  think  Nellie  ought  not 
to  be  a  loser  by  this  misfortune,  raise  your 
hands." 

Instantly  every  little  hand  was  raised,  and 
if  one  were  before  another  it  was  Gracie's. 

"  Very  well ;  that  is  satisfactory,"  said  Mrs. 
Howard.  ''  Nellie,  my  dear,  here  are  ten  dollars 
for  your  mat,  the  first  money  taken  in  for 
your  fair.  The  second  sum,  I  think,  must  go 
to  Maggie's  toilet  set  —  ah!  yes,  Maggie's  and 
Bessie's,  I  should  have  said,"  as  she  saw  the 
look  which  Maggie  turned  upon  her  sister, 
as  if  wishing  that  she  should  have  her  full 
share  of  credit  —  "the  third  to  Dora's  mat, 
and  the  fourth  to  Hattie's  toilet  set.  You 
are  all  satisfied,  I  trust,  with  this  arrange- 
ment." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  assent,  and  this 
part  of  the  business  was  settled. 

"  And  now,"  said  Mrs.  Howard,  "  I  want  to 
say  that  I  think  I  made  a  mistake  in  offering 


The  Fair,  239 

these  rates  of  prices,  and  so  exciting  you  to 
outvie  one  another.  I  meant  to  give  you  a 
motive  for  trying  to  improve  yourselves,  but  I 
believe  it  was  not  a  good  principle  to  set  you 
thus  one  against  the  other,  and  I  know  that  it 
has  led  to  some  hard  feeling  and  unkindness. 
But  that,  I  trust,  is  now  all  healed,  and  I  shall 
take  care  not  to  put  such  temptation  in  your 
way  again." 

The  children  all  thought  they  knew  what 
Mrs.  Howard  meant,  and  with  true  courteous- 
ness  they  all  avoided  looking  at  Gracie. 

But  this  was  as  much  as  was  ever  known  by 
any  of  them,  save  the  two  or  three  who  had 
been  in  the  secret,  of  Gracie's  temptation  and 
fall.  That  she  had  been  jealous  and  unkind 
to  Nellie,  they  had  all  seen  ;  that  she  had  gone 
further  and  been  led  into  deceit  and  meanness, 
they  never  heard.  Hattie,  for  her  own  sake, 
held  her  peace  for  once ;  and  penitent  Gracie 
had  not  to  face  the  scorn  and  wonder  of  all 
her  schoolmates. 

After  this^  Mrs.  Howard  went   al^out  from 


240  Jessies  Parrot. 

table  to  taule,  purchasing  not  only  one  article, 
but  generally  two  or  three,  from  each  little 
saleswoman ;  but  she  said  she  would  not 
remove  them  till  the  fair  was  over,  so  that 
they  might  still  add  to  the  appearance  of  their 
tables.  They  were  all  marked  SOLD  in 
enormous,  staring  letters,  that  there  might  be 
no  possibility  of  mistake. 

And  now,  customer  after  customer  began  to 
flock  in,  and  among  the  earlier  arrivals  came 
Mr.  Powers,  who  was  immediately  seized  upon 
by  Belle,  and  led  to  the  table  where  the  baby 
doll  lay  in  her  glory. 

Now  it  had  been  announced  that  whoever 
offered  the  highest  price  for  this  famous  infant 
was  to  have  her,  and  it  was  not  to  be  told  till 
the  close  of  the  fair  who  had  done  this.  The 
names  of  would-be  purchasers,  with  the  amount 
each  offered,  were  written  down  by  Miss  Annie 
Stanton,  who  still  held  the  doll  in  charge, 
lest  too  eager  little  hands  should  mar  her 
beauties. 

"  Please  offer  a  whole  lot,  papa ;  I  do  want 


The  Fair,  241 

her  so,"  said  Belle.  "Isn't  she  lovely?  Did 
you  ever  see  such  a  doll  ? " 

Mr.  Powers  expressed  all  the  admiration  he 
thought  needful,  which  did  not  nearly  satisfy 
Belle,  who  was  only  half  consoled  by  what  she 
thought  a  want  of  proper  interest  by  Maggie's 
whispered  assurance  that  men  "  never  did 
appreciate  dolls,  and  it  was  quite  useless  to 
expect  it  of  them.  It  did  not  seem  to  be  born 
in  them." 

However,  Mr.  Powers  put  down  his  name 
and  the  sum  he  would  give,  which  last  re- 
mained for  the  present  a  secret  between  him 
and  Miss  Annie  Stanton. 

Mamie  Stone  was  as  eager  about  the  doll 
as  Belle,  and  her  mamma  was  called  upon  also 
to  offer  a  high  price  for  the  treasure. 

But  my  "Sunbeam"  would  lengthen  itself 
far  beyond  its  sister  rays  if  I  should  tell  you 
all  that  took  place  at  the  fair.  Enough  to  say 
that  it  was  a  great  success,  and  that  a  sum 
was  taken  in  that  was  more  than  sufficient  to 
purchase  Jessie's  parrot  back  and  to  provide 
16 


242  yesste^s  Parrot, 

a  comfortable  home  for  herself  and  her 
grandfather  for  at  least  a  year  to  come. 
That  is,  with  what  the  little  girl  might  hope 
to  make  herself  by  the  further  sale  of  her 
wares. 

Evening  came,  bringing  with  it  the  great 
interest  of  the  day,  the  announcement  of  the 
munificent  purchaser  of  the  doll,  and  every 
little  heart  beat  high  with  hope  that  it  might 
be  some  friend  of  her  own,  who  would  bestow 
the  coveted  prize  upon  her. 

It  proved  to  be  Grandmamma  Howard. 

Belle  stood  in  an  agony  of  expectation, 
squeezing  her  father's  hand  and  scarcely 
breathing  in  the  hush  that  came  before  the 
name  was  spoken ;  and  when  she  heard  "  Mrs. 
Howard,"  a  rush  of  color  dyed  her  face,  and 
a  look  of  blank  disappointment  overspread  it. 
She  looked  up  and  caught  her  father's  gaze 
fixed  anxiously  upon  her.  She  dashed  her 
little  hand  across  her  eyes  to  scatter  the  tears 
that  would  well  up,  and,  forcing  a  smile,  said 
with  a  trembling  lip,    "  Never    mind,  papa ; 


The  Fair,  243 

you  meant  me  to  have  it,  so  it  was  just  as 
good  of  you." 

Her  father  stooped  and  kissed  her,  rejoicing 
in  her  sweetness  and  determined  good  temper. 
A  little  more  than  a  year  since,  a  tempest  of 
tears  and  sobs  would  have  broken  from  his 
over-indulged  child ;  but  now  she  had  learned 
to  control  herself  and  to  be  contented  and 
pleasant  even  when  things  did  not  go  quite  her 
own  way.  She  was  all  smiles  and  brightness 
again  in  a  few  minutes,  nearly  consoled  for 
her  disappointment  by  her  papa's  caress  and 
his  few  whispered  words  of  blessing. 

All  believed  that  Gracie  or  one  of  her  little 
sisters  would  be  presented  with  the  doll  by 
her  grandmother;  and  great,  therefore,  was 
the  amazement  of  the  circle  of  young  friends 
when  the  next  day  it  was  rumored,  then  made 
certain,  that  Mrs.  Howard  had  sent  it  to  Nellie 
Ransom. 

Every  child  wondered  "  why,"  and  so  did 
more  than  one  grown  person ;  for  the  Howards 


244  Jessies  Parrot, 

and  the  Ransoms  were  not,  as  Maggie  said, 
"very  intimate,  and  it  was  rather  surprising 
Mrs.  Howard  should  think  of  giving  such  a 
present  to  Nellie.  But  she  seems  to  have 
taken  a  great  fancy  to  her,  and  Nellie  quite 
deserves  it,"  she  added. 

"  I  wonder  if  she  gave  it  to  her  because  of 
the  mat,"  said  Mamie  Stone. 

"I  think  it  was  because  she  is  such  a 
serious  child,"  said  Lily.  "  I  find  old  people 
like  seriosity^  and  Nellie  has  a  great  deal  of 
it." 

So  they  judged,  these  little  ones.  Nellie, 
gentle,  unobtrusive  "little  sunbeam"  that  she 
was,  went  on  her  quiet  way,  shedding  lighfc 
and  warmth  in  many  an  unsuspected  nook  and 
corner,  and  bringing  now  and  then  some 
hidden  seed  to  blossom  in  beauty  and  fra- 
grance. 

Only  one  of  her  schoolmates  ever  suspect- 
ed that  it  was  her  thoughtful  care  for  Grade's 
character  and  feelings,  her  sweet  forgiving 


The  Fair. 


24S^ 


spirit  which  led  her  to  forget  past  injuries, 
which  had  won  for  her  the  gift  of  the  much 
coveted  doll,  and  given  her  a  high  place  in  the 
love  and  admiration  of  the  few  who  knew  all 
the  storj. 


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Uncle  Fred's  Shilling 1.25 

Uncle  Joe's  Thanksgiving 1.25 

Victory  Stories 75 

Was  I  Right  ?     Walton i.oo 

Wicket  Gate.     i6mo 1.25 

Wise  Words  and  Loving  Deeds. .  1.50 


Sets  in  Boxes. 


The  Jewel  Case.   6  vols $7.50 

The  Wonder  Case.    6  vols 7.50 

Win  and  Wear  Series.    6  vols. .  7.50 
Green  Mountain  Stories.   5  vols.  6.00 

Ledgesjde  Series.    6  vols 7.50 

2.25 
7-50 
3.60 
6.00 
3.60 

7' 50 
7-5° 
5.00 
7.00 


Butterfly's   Flights.    3  vols 

The  Bessie  Books.    6  vols 

The  Flowerets.    6  vols 

Little  Sunbeams.    6  vols 

Kitty  and  Lulu  Books.  6  vols. 
Miss  Ashton's  Girls.  6  vols. . . 
Haps  and  Mishaps.    6  vols — 

Heroes  of  Israel.    5  vols 

The  King's  People.    5  vols 

Highland  Series.    6  vols 7.50 

Ellen  Montgomery's  Bookshelf. 

5  vols   5.00 

stories  of  Vinegar  Hill.  3  vols.  3.00 
The  Say  and  Do  Series.  6  vols.  7.50 
Clareraont  Series.    10  vols 8.50 


Stories  of  Small  Beginnings.    - 

4  vols 5.00 

Ministering  Children  Library. 

4  vols 3.00 

Little  Kitty's  Library.  6  vols..  3.00 
Harry  and  Dolly  Library.  6  vols.  3.00 

Rainbow  Series.    5  vols 3.00 

Primrose  Series.    6  vols 3.00 

Peep  of  Day  Library.  8  vols...  4.50 
Drayton  Hall  Series,  6vols. ..  4.50 
Golden  Ladder  Series.  3  vols..  3.00 
Dare  to  Do    Right  Series.     5 

vols 5.50 

Tales  of  Christian  Life.  5  vols.  5.00 
Tales  of  Many  Lands.    5  vols..  5.00 

Springdale  Series.    6  vols 2.00 

The  Great  and  Good.  4  vols...  6.00 
Violet  and  Lily  Series.  6  vols.  3.00 
Golden  Library,  A.  10  vols —  8.50 
Golden  Library,  B.    10  vols —  8.50 


The  A,  L.  O.  E.  Library.     In  55  vols.     i8mo.     In  a  neat 
wooden  case 40.00 

"  All  these  stories  have  the  charm  and  pure  Christian  character,  which  havemade 
the  name  of  A.  L.  O.  E.  dear  to  thousands  of  homes." — LtdJieraii. 

"The  writings  of  this  author  have  become  a  standard,  and  the  mystic  imprint, 
A.  L.  O.  E.,  is  ample  assurance  that  the  truth  of  the  Gospel  is  beneath," — 
Episcopalian. 

-^- 


Old  Favorites. 


The  Bessie  Books.  By  Joanna  H.  Mathews.  Fancy  cloth. 
Chromo  on  cover.     6  vols.     i6mo 7.50 

BY   THE    SAME   AUTHOR. 

The  Flowerets.     6  vols.     i8mo..$3.6o         Kitty  and  Lulu  Books,     6  vols. 

Little  Sunbeams.     6  vols.     i6mo .  6.oo  i8mo 3.60 

Haps  and  Mishaps.  6vols.  i6mo.  7.50         Miss Ashton's Girls.  6vols.  i6mo.  7.5,0 

Ministering  Children  and  Sequel.    2 vols.    i2mo.    Each.   1.50 

Oliver  of  the  Mill.     By  the  same  author.     i2mo 1.50 

The  Peep  of  Day  Library ;  or,  Bible  History  for  Very 
Little  Children.  With  90  full-page  illustrations.  8  vols. 
i8mo 4.  ^o 


Mamma's    Bible    Stories    and    Sequel. 
Chromo  on  side.     Each 


New    edition. 


.75 


Very    Little    Tales    for   Very    Little    Children.     New 

edition.     Two  vols,  in  one.     Chromo  on  side 75 

Little   Annie's   First   and   Second   Books.     In  one  vol. 
Chromo  on  side 75 


